


Scorchfire

by redpandaaaaaaa



Series: Fire Triology [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bad Parenting, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Angst, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Prince Jackson Wang, Prince Mark, Prince Mark Tuan, Romance, Slow Burn, War, bambam is a brat, its a trilogy, jackson loves his horse, oh no theres only one tent, oh yeah, plz just talk to eachother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpandaaaaaaa/pseuds/redpandaaaaaaa
Summary: Jackson’s sole purpose in life was an advantageous marriage. Never had he thought that he'd actually want to go through with it. However, rumors of conflict and rising tension's between his homeland and that of his love's may prevent him from realizing. Or maybe it will bring him and Mark together? Jackson and Mark must blaze through the conflict and find what makes their love burn.
Relationships: Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Series: Fire Triology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603015
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just decided "fuck it" I've been working on this thing for like 4 years should probably just post what I got.

[ _The air at the dinner table was heavy, almost suffocating. The King and Queen of Ettore sat and ate silently at the heads of the table. Their eldest son and his new wife sat at one side and their youngest on the other. It was just like any other dinner with the Ettoren Royal family: tense, impersonal, all business. They were all used to the overbearing oppressiveness of the household. The Queen set down her cutlery for a moment and cleared her throat in such a way that seemed both refined and authoritative at the same time. As if trained to hear that exact sound, her sons and husband immediately stopped eating their meal and looked to her. The woman took in a slow breath and gazed at each face surrounding the table, eyes sharp and ruthless._

_“Ka-Yee,” she spoke the name of her youngest son, sickly gentle and empty, “Your father and I have decided to make a change of plans in your future.”_

_Ka-Yee straightened in his seat, unsurprised at his parents’ meddling in his life but concerned of what this trist would entail._

_“This asinine border dispute has gone too far. The Kingdom of Haruz holds no respect for us anymore, therefore we will be withdrawing our support until an apology is made.” The Queen informed with no remorse, “Furthermore, we will not allow you to spend any more time in Haruz. Your studies will immediately be transferred back here and you will continue schooling in your own homeland. There will be no contact with anyone in Haruz, especially its prince.”_

_Ka-Yee stared back his mother, face white. Every part of his body went numb in an instant. He was unable to think or breathe for reasons unknown to him. It was like Ka-Yee’s whole world had crashed down on top of him and raised back up again. Was he free? His glass slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the table with a loud clink, the sharp noise resonating throughout the silent room. Servants rushed to the table to stop the liquid that had escaped from his glass, breaking his line of sight to his mother’s soulless frown._ ]

\---------

The warm, red sun felt hot on Ka-Yee’s back. Rolling hills of gold blew past him, morphing into seas of warm greys and pools of somber shadows. His heartbeat matched that of the thundering hooves of the horse beneath him, fast and unrelenting. Ka-Yee set his eyes to the horizon and did not plan on looking back. He must have been mad, surely. Something in his head must have taken a dive into dark and uncharted waters when he cooked up his plan. His parents were sure to be mad at him--No, they wouldn’t be mad. His parents were never the kind to do things lightly; they always acted in the extremes. There was no such thing as middle ground. His parents were going to kill him, there was absolutely no way around it. If not, disown him. He had only one chance to reinstate his place in the family and he better get it done right, and get it done fast. Otherwise he would be bidding adieu to any home he could have, have had or would have and he did not fancy becoming an outcast in the prime of his life.

The Great West Road stretched out before him, steadily gaining curves and altitude. The worm road was dusted with the golden light of the setting sun behind Ka-Yee as he raced to reach his destination before dark. The long and lonely journey gave himself plenty of time to think and reflect. When had he last been to Haruz? The Western country full of fertile land and livestock used to be a home away from homes for him. In fact, he had sometimes come to love it more than his own. Yet the place always held a sense of dread to it in Ka-Yee’s mind. This time was no different. He had no idea if he would even be welcomed in Haruz anymore. With the border disagreement teetering on the edge of a full blown war, the Ettoren and Haruz people were not very friendly anymore. This part of the West Road was sure to be dangerous land for anyone of either party. Bordering on the edge of Ettore and Haruz, people were sure to be wary of any travelers.

Ka-Yee found himself steering his black stallion of the main road not ten hours after his departure that morning and two days after leaving home. He slowed his horse to a walk, allowing it rest from its final gallop of the day. They trailed down a lesser used road to the gate of Ammenith, a small travelers' stop of a town just inside of the Haruz border. The lonely wooden city was overshadowed by the great mountains behind it. It was the last stop on the eastern side of Joseph’s Pass. After that, it was about another day’s journey through the thin and rocky roads of the mountain to the other side. However, once through the ride became much easier and practically a day or two ride to the capital of Haruz if the weather was good. Ka-Yee had been to this place many times in his life. He had the city memorized and a map made inside his head; the inn was directly to the left of the gate, a little ways away to make space for the central road, there was a tavern next door and a wares shop across from it. Other than a few food shops and trade stores, the city was rather empty, and most of its residents lived in apartments above their shops.

With the sun set and the only light leading him to the city gate being the light of the hotel, Ka-Yee hastened his stallion’s pace. He was surprised to find a large wooden wall and doors accompanying the once open gate of Ammenith. The city was surrounded by the defense, shadowing it in the darkness of the stone and pines surrounding it. As he approached the gate a light flickered above the gate, swaying back and forth as if held by a drunkard. Ka-Yee halted before the closed gate and looked up to the light to find a shriveled Haruz man standing watch over the town.

“Ho gatekeeper!” Ka-Yee shouted to the man, turning his weary horse to face the man better, “Might you let a weary traveler and his horse passage into your city?”

The man squinted down at Ka-Yee and lowered his lantern slightly as if to see him better, “And do you come from East or West sir?”

Ka-Yee frowned in the darkness. He should have expected as much. Ammenith being so close to the fire, of course they would take precaution.

“I come from East, yet I mean no harm,” Ka-Yee replied.

“Might you give me a name then, harmless easterner?” the gatekeeper asked with every intention of receiving a truthful answer.

“My name?” Ka-Yee repeated--

[ _“Jackson. I want to call him Jackson.”_ ]

“My name is Jackson, just Jackson.”

The gatekeeper gave one last wary look to Jackson before disappearing behind the wall. Then, a loud creaking noise broke through the still night as the gate reluctantly opened. Jackson quickly slipped in before the man changed his mind (or his tiny arms fell off). The town center was void of any living thing. The grey dust road was heavy with footprints and hoof marks, alluding to Jackson that there were actually people there. Shadows hung ominously from every building, pouring out of alleys and scattering away from the orange-fire glow of the inn’s lanterns. Jackson’s stallion whinnied nervously as a shadow crossed over their path. The man hunched down and stoked the strong neck of the animal soothingly and urged it towards the inn. The flickering light from the lanterns on either side of the inn doors cast ghostly images of orange and yellow onto the hitching rail and sending flashes of orange demons darting across the ground. Jackson’s horse protested loudly when he dismounted from it, pulling back on its reins and yanking its head away from the inn, feet stomping loudly.

“ **Hush, Li** ,” Jackson chastised the horse as he pulled it back toward the hitching rail and tied a lead rope securely between them.

“Hey,” a hushed voice cut through the silence of the night.

Jackson froze, body tense as his eyes scanned his surroundings warily. There was nothing that he could see in front of his aside from what the scarce amount of light allowed him to: his horse, the hitching rail and porch of the inn.

“Psst!” The voice came again, harsh against the silence.

Jackson turned, one hand securely on his belt where his hidden short sword hung. He squinted into the darkness, searching for the figure.

“Over here.” A weathered Haruz man stepped out of the alley between the stables and inn and gestured for Jackson to come over.

Jackson eyed the man as he crept back into the shadows, weighing his options in his head. He was most skilled in the short sword and could easily defend himself, if need be. But he had no notion of the other man’s circumstances. However, he decided to take his chances.

“Hurry up, pretty boy. And put your hood up before someone sees!” The man ushered quietly.

Giving one last look to his surroundings, Jackson straightened his traveling pack onto his shoulder and stepping over to the man. The alley was pitch black, as was to be expected. The mysterious man stood just behind the corner of the inn, hidden in the darkness of the alley way. Jackson allowed his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, hand still attached to his hip.

“Look here boy,” The man started off in a panicked whisper, “You best be careful around here--I don’t care who you think you are or how rich your daddy is with them expensive clothes and all, but you best not be mixing around with the folk in this town. Ain’t nobody here gonna trust you, being Ettoren and all.”

Jackson listened carefully, quickly surmising that the man had not recognized him. That information itself could be used for Jackson’s gain tonight.

“Thank you for the advice, but I don’t plan on staying long,” Jackson stated as he pulled his hood up just to humor the man.

“That still ain’t music to my ears. What’s an Ettoren stiff like you doin so far from home anyways? Haven’t you heard of all the fightin’ goin' on?” The man continued, dismissing Jackson response.

“My business is my own,” Jackson growled coldly, “Now if you excuse me I’ve had a very long day and would like to find some rest.” With that Jackson turned sharply and left the alley and the man behind him. He checked on his horse, brooding for a moment, before climbing up the short wooden stairs and into the inn.

The door creaked loudly in protest when Jackson pushed it open. The awful noise gained the attention of the inn keeper, who stood behind a desk in the main room. Jackson stepped quietly into the room, allowing the door to close as loudly as it wished. He walked up to the desk where the innkeeper stood. He was a large, unfriendly looking man, mostly likely chosen to stand guard at night and ward off any trouble lurking in the late hours. The inn keeper straightened himself and greeted Jackson plainly, asking the standard “How may I help you?”

“I would like a room please,” Jackson responded in unfaltering and fluent Haruz language, “and boarding for my horse.”

The man eyed him oddly for a moment, most likely due to his mysterious appearance. Then again, he had probably received stranger characters passing through his business.

“Might I have a time-frame, sir?” the innkeeper asked gruffly, titling his head to try and peer under Jackson’s hood.

“I shall only be here for the night,” Jackson informed as she slipped his hand underneath his robe to pull out a coin pouch.

The desk man eyed the expensive material pensively as Jackson pulled out few coins and placed them on the counter. He quickly replaced the pouch back inside his cloak, concealing any trace of himself or his heritage. The look on the man's face faded once it was gone from sight, choosing to value the amount of money Jackson had places on the table. After counting the coins with prudish earnesty, he procured a set of keys from underneath the counter.

“This is for the stable,” the man informed holding up the larger key, “And this is to your room- first door on the right once you're up the stairs.”

Jackson took the keys and exited the inn, going to his horse outside. The animal whinnied tiredly at his approach.

“I know, Li,” Jackson soothed the horse as he untied it from the hitching rail, “ **I’m tired too.** ”

Taking the horse by the reins, Jackson lead it around the inn to the stables behind it. Using the key given to him by the innkeeper, he deftly unlocked the main door and led his horse into the dark barn. He quickly found an open stable and guided Li into it, making sure there was plenty of fodder for the horse. Jackson slowly returned to the inn, traveling pack feeling heavier than it ever had. Ignoring the innkeeper, he went straight for the stairs and up to his room. He tiredly unlocked the door and fell into the room. Jackson dropped his bag onto the floor and removed his cloak and outer coat. He tossed them onto the end of the shoddy, hay-mattress of a bed before flopping down upon it. Jackson groaned tiredly and closed his eyes, rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the feather pillow. The room felt like it was dipping and swaying about him, as if he was still on his horse. Jackson huffed and turned his head to the side, sinking deeper into the poorly made pillow. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

\---------

[ _The city was filled with banners of yellow and royal blue or purple and white. Warm gray cobblestones jarred the carriage that Ka-Yee sat in, eyes wide and filled with wonder as he gazed out the window. People passed by on the streets. They waved to him as they passed, wide smiles on their pale faces. Their many hair colors amazed Ka-Yee. He would tug on the sleeve of his mother’s robe and point excitedly to the people. Every time she would tell him to stop or sit down, but it never deterred the young prince. Buildings passed as they made their way deeper into the city. Ka-Yee become more enraptured with every pull of the horses.  
It was much later in the day that Ka-Yee was mustered out of his temporary room and pulled into a dressing room with his brother. Two chamber maids brought by his mother worked on the two boys, washing their faces and combing their hair. Once they had deemed the boys clean enough they were brought ceremonial robes. The eldest wore the deep purple robe, decorated with orchid tree flowers swirling across the outer waistcoat in shade of lavender and violet. The youngest wore the white robe, plain in color and look serving to emphasize the innocence and age of the young prince. After receiving their leather slippers, they were ushered out of the room and down the hall to their father. His robe was cut in the same style of his eldest son's, though the orchid petals remained white and the swirling designs lavender. His long black hair was pulled back and knotted at the nape of his neck. Soon enough they were joined by the queen, looking as beautiful as she was cold. Her long dress was lavender with pale white orchid tree flowers fluttering from her neck to the hem. The sash tied about her waist was deep purple and lined in shimmering pastel purple. Her face was powdered and painted, show  
casing her regal features and her hair pulled back as to not break the view. She truly was the beauty of Ettore. It was just a shame her heart did not match it._

_The family was guided through the long halls by a head servant of the palace. Jackson began to grow dizzy with every twist and turn they followed, his mother’s hand tight on his. They were led to a set of large doors. The sounds of people chatting and music playing drifted from beneath it. A squire stood alert at the door and bowed at the arrival of the family. He knocked on the door loudly with the end of his staff. In response, the music and chatting stopped and the doors opened. Young Ka-Yee gazed at the room in wonder, unable to school his features like the rest of his family. The room was vast, filled with people of all colors and sizes. They stood in mass around a strip of royal blue carpet that led to a stage of thrones. Large stained glass windows illuminated the room in colorful light. The light reflected off the polished granite tiles. Upon the carpeted stage stood the Haruz royal family: the king, queen, their two princesses and the crown prince._

_Ka-Yee’s gaze was immediately stolen by the boy, for reasons unknown to him. The crown prince did not seem to be much older than him. He had bright blonde hair that stood out amongst his family. The tall stained glass windows behind him seemed to all converge just to shine their light solely on him. All other noise was deafened to Ka-Yee as his eyes laid sight on the blonde prince that he had yet to meet. Then, the foreign prince’s eyes flickered over to Ka-Yee and the world stopped around him. Large brown eyes sparkled from underneath blonde fringe. The boy seemed curious of Ka-Yee and smiled shyly at him from beside his father. Suddenly Ka-Yee felt shy too._

_“Welcome! Welcome our esteemed guests,” The King Raymond of Haruz exclaimed jovially, inviting the family into the room.  
They paced their way down the center carpet in a truly elegant fashion, just as the Ettoren Queen had regimented into them. When they reached the stage, the two families bowed to each other; the kings and queen dipping their head while their children bent at the waist._

_“It is our great pleasure that Haruz should welcome the Kingdom of Ettore into our home. We hope that this name-day celebration will not only forge a bond between our two kingdoms, but also a bond of friendship,” King Raymond announced, stepping forward with his son at his side._

_Ka-Yee was pulled forwards by his mother who responded through an enigmatic smile, “It would please us so.”_

_The blond prince now stood so close to Ka-Yee, almost an adult’s arm’s length away. Their gazes met and Ka-Yee felt the need to hide behind his mother, anything to hide away from the feelings that stirred inside of him at just a glace of the foreign prince. The king stepped forwards and pulled his son in front of him. He cleared his throat before continuing.  
“Let us get right to it then. Young Prince Ka-Yee, I bestow upon you this name as a tie between our nations. It is a promise to uphold and forge the bond between Haruz and Ettore. As King of Haruz, I now bestow upon you the name-”_

_“Jackson,” The young Mark suddenly interrupted, his voice quiet but not hesitant, “I want to call him Jackson.”_

_The king looked down at his son in surprise. He spluttered for a moment as he tried to regain his composure, eyes widening comically as his mouth opened and closed in surprise._

_“Ah, yes. I suppose you can call him that,” The king looked down to his son who was smiling happily at the foreign prince in front of him, “As the King--and Prince--of Haruz, we bestow the name of Jackson upon thee. May it serve you well.”_ ]

\---------

Jackson awoke with a groan. He lied in the shoddy inn bed, refusing to open his eyes and find himself in the exact place where he knew he was. Jackson took a deep breath in and let it out as his hands drifted from the crown of his to his chin, fingers massaging along the way. He blinked his eyes open and sighed once more as the dark, wooden inn ceiling appeared before him. Sitting up, Jackson let his mind wander to the dream--memory--that had just escaped with his unconscious mind. It seemed like he could not escape Haruz, let alone Mark, even in his sleep. It was rather ambiguous whether he wanted to or not.

Looking to the window, Jackson saw the slight pinkish-orange glow of the sun as it forced its way over the landscape. Jackson took one last calming breath before standing and redressing himself in his traveling clothes. Jackson gathered his few belongings into his sac before tossing it over his shoulder and leaving the rented room. He treaded down the stairs quietly, body still stiff from the uncomfortable bed. Passing by the front desk, he left the inn and walked around back to the stables. There he found his horse Li, already awake and grazing on the hay that the stable hand left the previous night. The horse nickered when Jackson drew near, abandoning its feast.

“Morning, Li,” Jackson yawned as he reached over the gate to stroke the black stallion’s jaw, “Time to get going…”

Jackson entered the stable before taking his saddle from where it rested over the gate and threw it over Li’s massive back. He expertly adjusted the various straps and belts, appropriating the cinch around Li’s belly. He replaced Li’s reins and guided the horse out of the stable. He tied Li to the hitching rail before hopping up onto the raised porch of the inn. Opening the door slightly, Jackson poked his side through and caught the attention of the man at the desk.

“Ey,” Jackson spoke impishly.

The man looked over at him rather annoyed, eyes widening at the sight of Jackson without his hood.

“Thanks,” Jackson snickered before tossing the borrowed set of keys to the man and slipping out of the doorway.

He quickly untied Li and hauled himself onto the beast’s back. Squeezing the horse’s girth with his knees, Jackson encouraged Li into a gallop. He caught the morning gatekeeper by surprise, giving the man little time to throw the gates open before Jackson and his horse plowed through them. Dust billowed from behind the pair as they sprinted past the disheartened town.

————

The mountains that zigzagged between the borders of Ettore and Haruz were known for their mass. The Tun mountains held the highest peaks in the known world. Joseph’s Pass was the only accessible (on the Haruz side) path through the towering peaks by horse or ox. The other roads that littered the rocky cliffs were too small and unstable, causing more death to bovine creatures than human. Jackson cared for his horse much to greatly to even risk the less traveled path as means for privacy. He would have to take the Pass.

The air thinned around Jackson as the majestic mountains seemed to grow more and more in size. The rolling hills turned to rocky slopes and became more crowded with travelers. The Tun Mountains glister in the early morning sunlight, their tips glistening pink with the last effects of the rising sun. Jackson restrained Li from a gallop to a canter. He was desperate for time, not injury. However, he urged his horse to move quickly through the throngs of weary farmers and merchants, only stopping when he though Li desperately needed the break. Jackson brought salted meat for his noonday meal and a sackful of oats that he fed to Li as extra encouragement. With all of their combined efforts Jackson and Li made it through the mountains and to the next town by sunset. The town of Joseph was much larger than Ammenith. It stood as major point in the stone trade. The majority of miners harvested their granite and building stones along the eastern range. The goods were then shipped through Joseph and from there to their designated merchants.

Jackson steered his tired stallion towards the closest inn. It was located near the center of the city as to encourage travelers to stop and shop. It’s positioning, however, did not allow for an attached stable. That was located much closer to the edge of the city. Jackson reasoned he could pay for his room and ask the clerk where closest stable was. Yet when he finally trotted up to the inn, it seemed like his plans were to change. A loud bang burst out into the street in front of the inn. Enraged voices shouted as a large object was thrown from inside the inn doors and into a heap on the dirty street.

“Foul creep! That’s the last time I let any Ettoren scum come into my business!” A man shouted from inside the doors, a crowd of men surrounding him murmuring in approval.

The object, which now appeared to Jackson as a young Ettoren boy, stood up on wobbly feet.

“I didn't do anything to deserve that!” the boy growled back with a heavy accent.

“Well, then you deserve nothing from me!” with that, the man spat at the boy and slammed the inn door shut.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the darkened street. So much so that Jackson felt almost as if he had been intruding on very private moment. The boy grumbled and wiped the dirt from his body turning away from the inn and coincidentally right in front of Li.

“EY!” The boy shouted in surprise, jumping back from the horse, “Watch where you're pointing that thing!”

Jackson blinked down at the boy, unimpressed look adorning his face, “Rough times?”

The boy glared up at Jackson, “I don't need your pity.”

“ **That's unfortunate** ,” Jackson replied in their native language. Jackson slid off his horse and stepped over to the boy, tilting the edge of his hood up, “ **I was planning on helping.** ”

“You’r-” the boy gasped in shock.

“Yes, hello. Hold your tongue,” Jackson quickly hushed the boy, “What’s your name kid?”

“ **Fai Cheng, from Xi** ,” Cheng replied in Ettoren.

“Well then, follow me Cheng,” Jackson offered before walking down the road, horse in tow.

They made their way to the stable house in silence, mostly because Jackson had tiredly shushed Cheng from asking questions. When they finally found it on the other side of town, the sky had already turned dark. The Allumers were out and about lighting oil lamps that hung beside the streets. Jackson rented a stable and led both Li and Cheng into the barn. Once, there Jackson began unsaddling Li, leaving Cheng to stand quietly by the gate.

“ **So,” Cheng started hesitantly, as if he were unsure whether he was allowed to talk but desperately needed to break the silence, “What’s the Prince of Ettore hiding out in a Haruz stable**?”

Jackson sighed and hefted Li’s saddle over the gate, causing Cheng to stumble backwards. Jackson wiped at the seat tiredly before looking up, “ **Times are rough.** ”

“ **You said that earlier** ,” Cheng grumbled, upset that Jackson avoided his question, “ **How can it be hard for a prince? Heck, I was the one that just got thrown out--literally!** ”

“ **It’s hard to explain** ,” Jackson sighed, “ **but just know that I’m trying to fix this mess.** ”  
“ **Ha,** ” Cheng humphed, “ **It’s about time. You probably don’t even know how bad it is, livin' up there in your castle. People round here don’t like us. They refuse service, don’t sell us anything, straight up beat us and spit at us in the streets. Looks like you might get some of that because you were wearing that cloak earlier, but I doubt you’ve even experienced the brunt of it.** ”

Jackson looked at Cheng solemnly. What he said was quite true. He did not know the extent of the pain that his people went through every day in Haruz. He was darn sure his parents didn’t either, and if they did, they’d just use the Haruz attitudes as further reason to ignore them. His disguise hid him well, for now, so he did not see much action. Of course he noticed the unwelcoming attitudes of the Haruz, that paired with the man from Ammenith and his unexpected advice. Talking to Cheng would definitely help him get a grasp on things.

“ **Can you tell me more?** ” Jackson prodded as he pulled hay out to Li.

Cheng sighed a little and leaned against the gate, “ **What’s there to tell really? We’re practically being persecuted here. They take one look at us and we instantly become the enemy--there have been deaths I tell you! I mean, ever since that big fight happened down south, no Haruz ever trusted an Ettoren again.** ”

“ **So they do believe we’re at fault** ,” Jackson nodded.

“ **You mean we’re not?** ” Cheng looked up, suddenly very interested.

“ **What? Of course Ettore is not involved! And if I’m wrong, whoever is responsible is not acting from any orders!** ” Jackson immediately refuted, scandalized for a moment at the thought of his own kingdom acting out in such a way. Or maybe, he had been scandalized on his parents’ behalf. They would be wholesomely embarrassed should Ettore be the instigator. Jackson huffed quietly in respite, using the bale of hay behind him to support his weary body. “ **This is such a sensitive issue…** ”

Cheng hummed in solemn agreement. The silence dragged on as the Ettorens tried to comprehend all that had been spoken that night, until Jackson realized how late it actually was.

“ **Well, my friend, it’s time for some sleep** ,” Jackson smiled tiredly before knocking the bale over and settling down in the hay, offering part of the makeshift mattress to Cheng.

“ **What?** ” came Cheng’s surprised response.

“ **Oh, no. I wasn’t talking to you** ," Jackson joked and pointed to Li, " **The horse, I was talking to him.** ”

“ **Bah!** ” Cheng groaned and threw some straw hay at the royal, “ **There’s no way I’m sleeping with that stinky beast!** ”

Li huffed and stomped his feet, as if he understood the boy (he probably just wanted some peace and quiet after a long day of riding).

“ **Shh, don’t get him all upset** ,” Jackson whispered, “ **I am by his feet you know.** ”

Cheng shook his head with a sigh, “ **Whatever, I’ll be out here.** ”

With that, Cheng settled against the gate and tried to get some sleep.

\--------

Jackson awoke to his inner clock just as the sun was rising. He stood up and stretched out his sore limbs. Moving sluggishly over to Li, he draped himself over the horse’s lowered neck, waking the disgruntled animal.

“ **I know, bud** ,” Jackson soothed the stallion when he nickered angrily.  
Jackson walked around the horse and started preparing him for the da. Every now and then Jackson would glance over the gate to see Cheng, resting rather uncomfortably on the ground beside it.

“ **Now, what am I going to do with you**?” He asked himself.

It was at that moment when Cheng finally awoke from his slumber. The boy groaned and lifted himself off the dirt floor and massaged at his aching muscles.

“ **Ugh, I should have taken you up on that hay** ,” the boy stated miserably.

Unsure how to respond, Jackson just hummed in agreement before asking, “ **Do you have a place to go, Cheng**?”

“Hmm?” The boy blinked up at Jackson before nodding tiredly and standing up, “ **Yeah, I’ll probably be heading back to the mountains...There’s really nothing for me here.** ”

It was sad to Jackson, how unjustly the Ettorens had been treated. Had he not tried to keep an open mind, Jackson would have thought that the whole thing was a scheme cooked up by the Haruz. Still, he did not think that Cheng would have easy times for quite some length. He had to do something to help for now, delay the pain if he could.

“ **Take this,** ” Jackson ordered, tossing his money pouch to the boy.

“ **Wha--H-hey, just what are you doing? T-this is-** ”

“ **Just take it** ,” Jackson cut off the astonished boy, “ **Use it to rent a horse, heck, you could probably buy one. Also, it would be most prudent to go by a different name while you are still in Haruz. Perhaps, Chris?** ”

Cheng gave Jackson an appreciative smile, “ **I’ll do that**.”  
Jackson chuckled before hopping onto his horse, “ **Hey, if you’re ever in the capital, come say hi.** ”

Then, Jackson squeezed Li’s sides and the horse set off. The two blazed their way through Joseph quickly, trying to leave the city limits as fast as possible. The less people there were, the less likely he would be stopped or recognized. Jackson slowed his horse when the landscape had turned from rocky to green and the sun had risen up to its noontime position. The final lap to Castletown allotted quite some time to think about the predicament at hand. It seemed as if communication was quite a problem. No one seemed to be sure of what had happened. There didn’t seem to be any widespread violence between the two countries, but there was a palpable hysteria. The Haruz were wary of the Ettoren and vice versa. Most of the trouble seemed to be happening on the Haruz side, since Ettore had closed its borders while its neighbor remained open. The fact that Jackson couldn't think of more emphasized the notion that no one had any idea what was going on. Had anyone except himself thought to investigate? No one at all?

Jackson glumly switched his focus back to the road ahead. It would not be long until he reached Castletown. His only hope was that he would still have access to the castle. They would definitely recognize him there, but would they let him in? He could always sneak in like he did as a child. Jackson had to smile at that thought. There was a place in the castle guard wall where the stones were rough enough to climb. The inside of the wall butted up to the servant gardens, where they grew some crops for meals. Child Jackson was easily hidden behind the tall rows of vegetation, but adult Jackson would have to be more careful.

\------


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I don't understand how to use this website...idk if I fixed it or not but the ending note should have been on the previous chapter... either way, if you like the story, please be patient with me as I figure out how to do this. (also comments are appreciated)

[ _Mark giggled quietly as he followed his friend across the lush green lawn of the royal gardens. The laughter seemed to bubble out of him despite his friend turning to shush him. Yet it seemed that even he could quite keep the laughter in either…The young Jackson broke into a fit of giggles along with Mark. The two boys couldn’t stay quiet any longer and collapsed onto the soft sod, rolling around in the cold grass as they laughed loudly and with abandon. Mark’s laughter died down first, after all he was always much more quiet than Jackson. The young prince looked at his cackling friend with admiration._

_They had just been enroute with one of Jackson's crazy plans. Mark, being the rule abiding child he was, could help but think the whole situation was hilarious. He, Mark Tuan Prince of Haruz, was about to defy his parents, the King and Queen. Mark never did that. At least, ever alone. He always had Jackson around to get him in trouble._

_Jackson rolled over to the other boy once he let all the laughter out of his system. The black hair prince put his finger to his lips and motioned for Mark to stay quiet and follow him. The two boys slowly stood up and creeped around the greenroom to the edge of the gardens. Hanging over one spot of the garden walls was a large old flowering tree. Its branches were long and low, some drooping enough for the two eight-year-old princes to reach. Jackson, having found about said spot first, sprinted over to the tree. Immediately, he reached for the lowest branch and pulled himself over it and onto the next tier of boughs. The black haired prince reached the top of the garden wall and looked down to Mark, urging the boy to follow him with a wide, toothy smile and bright laughter._

_Mark couldn’t say no to that, no matter how afraid he was._

_So, Mark followed his friend. The blonde prince pulled himself through the branches with a smile almost as large as his friends. The feeling was freeing to him. It was a rush. It was like an adventure. Mark had never tried to sneak out before. Well, they weren't really sneaking out. They’d still be on castle grounds, but Jackson wanted to see the food gardens and who was Mark to refuse his ever curious friend? Mark quickly reached the wall top with Jackson. The slightly younger boy laughed happily, clapping Mark on the shoulder before beginning his descent through the tree. Mark blindly followed after the boy, feeling the rush of adrenaline as he was close to his destination. Beneath him, Jackson jumped own the last few feet, eager to start exploring. Mark heard the small thump from Jackson’s feet landing on the soft grass. All was quiet for a moment before Jackson suddenly screamed. Mark abruptly stopped, pushing his body close to the tree branch in fear. What could have happened? Did Jackson get hurt? Is there someone else down there? It seemed as if Mark’s inner turmoil was answered promptly as Captain Henry, the head of the King’s Knights, appeared through the tree leaves._

_“I really am no longer surprised by the extent of trouble you always seem to find yourself in,” the man sighed as he grabbed Jackson by the ear.  
Did he not see Mark? Should he just climb back? Jackson wasn’t going to give him away, was he? However, Mark couldn’t make the choice for himself. Suddenly, a cracking noise broke the conversation below and Mark felt himself plummeting to the ground below. The young prince groaned as he hit the ground with a loud thud. Luckily for him, he was not so high that he would injure himself, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt._

_“Your highness!“ Captain Henry shouted, releasing Jackson in favor of aiding his King’s son, “Your highness, are you well?”_

_Mark whined slightly at the pain, already feeling tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. Seeing this, Captain Henry became concerned and angered by tenfold._

_“Jackson Wang! It is one thing to make trouble on your own, but to bring Prince Mark into these shenanigans is unforgivable!” The captain growled._

_Jackson shied away in shame, tears beginning to fill his eyes as well, “I-I’m sorry! W-we just w-wanted to ex-explore…”_

_The captain sighed at the terrified child and quickly bundled Mark into his arms, “The King will deal with you later. For now, we must make sure his highness is uninjured…”_

]

The soirée bustled with life around Mark. Luxurious scents wafted through the air; the rich scents of rosemary and lavender floated above the party goers’ heads. People garbed in bright colors to monotone suits mingled about, their mummers of quiet conversation rivalling that of the ocean shore. The party had started just before the sun set. The servants had prepared it dutifully the sunrise before, setting out tables, cooking food and decorating for the grand celebration. It did not take long for the banquet hall, sitting room and ballroom to become filled with guests (foreign and native).

Being the heir to the throne, it was Mark’s job to welcome every guest. He did so cordially and with about as much elegance and care as he could, winning them over However, as the night dragged on Mark found the activity particularly draining. So, Mark excused himself to the sitting room and sat upon a grand couch in the center of the room, directly in front of the doors, so that whenever a guest entered they could make their way to him. That way, he could find some solace in the little rest he would be allowed for the next few days of his birth and coming of age celebrations.

As Mark finally parted with a rather overwhelming guest, he heard the commanding sound of the announcer clearing his throat by the open doors. He would do so and then proceed to announce the guest, but only if they were imperatively important.

“Announcing his Lordship Jackson Wang, Prince of Ettore,” the squire spoke loudly so that everyone in the room could hear him.

Mark’s head whipped to face the door with a speed that would rival a diving hawk. He stayed seated despite his surprise, seemingly frozen by the appearance of the Ettoren male. The crowd quieted and dispersed slightly, revealing the handsome Prince. It had been years since Mark had seen him last. Jackson had grown significantly since then. His body filled out, morphing into sharp lines of toned muscle peeking from beneath his traditional garb. The man had lost all boyish character from his face. His face had become shapelier, thinning out a bit into a sharp jaw with equally sharp cheekbones. His eyebrows were thick and dark, framing eyes that sparkled mischievously - like he knew something no one else did. His silky black hair was tied neatly at the nape of his neck, a few short hairs rebelliously pulling away from his traditional headband. He seemed slightly weathered, but still put together nonetheless. Mark was surprised by the overall appearance of his old acquaintance. The dark haired man easily found him in the crowd and sauntered over to the Haruz Crown Prince.

“Crown Prince Yi-En, it is always a pleasure to see you,” Jackson greeted with a bow.

Mark was slightly taken aback by the deepness of Jackson’s voice; he really was no longer a boy.  
“It has been long, Ka-Yee,” Mark replied, using Jackson’s oriental name just as the Ettoren used his.

“I’ve seen much change in six years, your highness, but it seems that the time has not paid you a single glance,” Jackson responded smoothly.

Mark chuckled under his breath in response to the man's flattery. He had always been quite flirtatious in their youth. Most of the court believed the young Ettoren prince had fancied Mark, but the crown prince had always seen it as part of Jackson's friendly disposition.

“I am very pleased and, rather surprised that you were able to attend today, Jackson,” Mark switched to the other's given Haruz name, “I thought that you would still be detained elsewhere.”  
“I cleared my schedule just for you, your highness. I too believe it has been too long.” Jackson smiled amicably, however Mark could detect more meaning hidden beneath his statement. He had a feeling that they would be meeting again to discuss their years apart. Yet, with all the loose ends surrounding Jackson’s disappearance, Mark needed confirmation.

“What an honor I have then, “Mark smiled politely, “I hope that you will be staying longer than last time. We have much to catch up on.”

“As it happens, I am staying for quite a long time in Haruz. You may be seeing me more often than you’d like. However, my reasons are too serious and drab to discuss at such a lively event,” Jackson brushed off the topic, “For now, you must enjoy your evening.”

Jackson smiled politely and bowed his head before falling back into the crowd before Mark could stop him. In any case, Mark could not have opposed since another guest came up to him directly after Jackson’s departure. Mark was left to his princely duties, which became ever so tiresome. With the whirlwind of guests and the party, Mark all too easily lost Jackson to the crowd. Yet, it was impossible to forget that his old friend was there, somewhere in the room. Jackson lingered in the back of his head for the entire night. The fact that he never had a spare moment to seek out the raven prince frustrated himself beyond belief.

The night quickly drew to a close around Mark. Guests either left by their own will or were escorted out for fear of injury. It was with a tired smile that he said his last farewell to some duke of some county he couldn’t remember, but still served under his father. When the servants finally closed the ornate blue sitting room doors, Mark collapsed upon the couch he had chosen earlier that night. He let his body sag against the plush horse hair cushions and closed his eyes for a moment, with instant regret. When he closed his eyes, Mark was immediately faced with the image of Jackson, Wang Ka-Yee. Jackson had mentioned that he would be staying a while. Perhaps he would have a chance to see the Ettoren prince at the next event? Or maybe it would be just another brief encounter. Whatever it was, it was killing Mark on the inside. It had been long since he felt so challenged. Years of lessons and training had taught him to act as a level headed leader. Yet, in one night Jackson Wang seemed to throw them all to the wind.  
Mark felt a slight tug on his tunic sleeve and opened his eyes blearily, eyes searching finding the blurry figure of his personal servant, Kris.

“I believe your bed would be much more comfortable, your majesty,” the servant offered in his quiet, deep voice.

Mark hummed in acknowledgment and reached for his butler’s arm to help him stand.  
“Will you be needing anything else, majesty?” Kris asked as he took hold of Mark’s arm, lifting the lithe prince with surprising strength.

“No, just wake me in the morning. I have a feeling that my body will continue to slumber,” Mark yawned as he stretched his tired limbs.

“It is morning, your majesty,” Kris responded with mirth.

Mark side-eyed the man with an unamused frown, “You know, if you were anyone else I’d probably have you beheaded.”

Kris took one look at the displeased prince before smiling endearingly and snorted in an attempt to hold back laughter. Mark let his glare reside for only a moment before joining his servant and friend in tired laughter. Mark clapped a hand on the tall man’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

When their chuckles died down Kris continued to ask, “Would you like me to escort you to your room, sire?”

“No, no,” Mark waved the offer off, “You need you rest, too. I’ll manage on my own.”

“As you wish.” Kris bowed with a smile.

Mark yawned behind his hand and told Kris, “You’re dismissed,” before exiting the room with another clap to the man’s shoulder.

\---------

When Mark reached his bedchamber on the second floor, he stopped short of the door. The guards standing outside bowed in greeting to him. He nodded his head in response before entering his room. Mark quietly shut the door behind himself and trudged to his bed, falling onto the soft, down-feather mattress. He was surprised to find that his mattress was not as comfortable as he remembered, finding something oddly sharp poking him the back. Mark shifted around uncomfortably, wondering what was underneath him. He stuck his arm beneath his body, finger finding purchase on a slip of cloth. Pulling the offending fabric from underneath himself, the blonde prince held it up to the light.

“Light?”

Mark didn’t remember lighting any candles. The guards weren’t allowed in his chambers and he maids were all occupied with the party. Mark sat up quickly, eyes searching the room for any evidence of an intrusion. He inhaled in surprise to find his window wide open, the white curtain limp in the windless evening. Almost afraid to, Mark looked down at the fabric in his hands, immediately recognizing the lavishly bejeweled, purple sash - the very same one Jackson had worn to the party. What did Jackson mean by this? Was it a sign that the foreign prince really meant what he said? That he’d be staying? That he would talk to Mark? Mark’s mind swam with the many implications of Jackson’s clue. He was too tired for his mind to go on another wild goose chance in the enigma that was Jackson, or this new Jackson.

Mark stood with a groan, dropping the sash onto his bed in favor for massaging at his temples and eyes. There would be no sleeping for him as long as that baiting fabric was within the room, luring his mind to question even his own existence. Mark decided that he would hide it in his study for now, he could deal with it tomorrow.

“Or today,” Mark corrected himself, remembering the hour.

Out of sight, out of mind never seemed to be a good course of action for the future ruler of a country, but Mark figured he had no choice.

The study was an adjacent room to Mark’s only accessible by the Crown Prince himself. The door to the room was hidden, or rather, built into a wardrobe positioned against the wall to the right of his bedroom door. Mark never locked the wardrobe because no one ever came into his room and no one knew about it. So, to say that Mark was surprised to find a black clad figure lounging on one of his study couches would be quite the understatement.

“Jackson!?” Mark shouted in confusion.

The figure, correctly identified as the second born Ettoren Prince, jumped up in surprise.

“Mark! Took you long enough,” Jackson replied with ease, as if he weren’t currently trespassing in Mark’s Sanctus sanctorum.

“Jackson Ka-Yee Wang! How the hell did you get in here?” Mark growled, dropping all formality while valiantly restraining himself from tackling the other.

“I believe the open window was evident enough,” Jackson replied frankly.

That did it for Mark. The crown prince made no sound as he lunged at Jackson, shoving him back to the couch. Jackson made a pained noise when his back collided with the backrest, but Mark couldn’t have cared any less in that moment.

“You disappear for six years! And then gallivant into my party as if you were giving a passing hello? It took ME so long?! You damned hypocrite! What about you?” Mark glared down at the surprised male.

Mark was livid, practically seething. He had no idea why he was acting so harshly. The whole situation seemed unreal to him. It could not compute in his brain. Seeing this, Jackson’s demeanor changed entirely. The raven haired prince held his hands up in surrender, face morphing that to one of regretful surprise.

“I seem to have struck a nerve, then,” Jackson resigned, “What say we backtrack a bit and start anew?”

Mark stared down at the man, frown still etched in his face, and nodded (albeit with an angry huff).

“I…” Jackson started off reluctantly, lowering his hands and looking up to the blonde prince, “I actually do not know where to start.”

Mark sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before settling down on the other side of the couch, “How did you get here, Jackson?”

“Um, initially by horse,” Jackson answered and then continued when Mark glared at him, “Uh, then I climbed up that back wall and tree that we used to sneak out as kids. Then, scaled up the wall and came in through the window…”

Mark just nodded in resignation. Anything that had to do with Jackson was bound to sound ridiculous. It always had, and probably always would.

“Have your parents realized the error in their ways and sent you here to mitigate this disaster? Because if so, you could have used the front door- or better yet, sent a letter,” Mark scolded.  
Jackson's face fell at the mention of their country’s ongoing dispute. “As a matter of fact...no,” he answered honestly but quickly continued, “However, I'm hoping to convince them of their wrong by being here.”

“So you are here against their will?” Mark replied, unable to disguise the astonishment in his voice.

“More or less,” Jackson sighed carefully, “They should know I'm here by now, but not for how long and they would never risk sending someone to come get me and ruin their image. Oh, and god forbid they come here themselves.”

“How long will you be staying, then? Earlier you said that I should be seeing you a lot more often,” Mark questioned, curiosity replacing his earlier anger.

“Until this border war is solved, I shall not be leaving Haruz,” Jackson replied with determination.

“But why you not your brother? It would be more diplomatic for him to do the work. Does he not feel the same?” Mark couldn’t help but wonder. Jackson was the second born after all. He had significantly less duties to attend to and even less diplomatic unions.

“You are very inquisitive aren't you?” Jackson joked, “Ah well, he is busy aiding the kingdom of Calyx rebuild from their revolution. Their king is young, but he seems wise beyond his years. Also, I cannot say whether my brother cares so much or not,” Jackson explained.

“The savage prince?” Mark asked, remembering the rumors of the Calyxian Prince’s heritage from when he was young.

“That’s the one, but who can you really call savages at this point? The people who live peacefully in the forest or the men that kill for power?” Jackson scoffed in earnest.

Mark was struck out of the blue by the philosophy. In all truths, Jackson’s question made sense. Mark was rather surprised by the elevated thinking Jackson suddenly displayed. It showed him that the Ettoren was no longer the rambunctious boy he once knew, but a proper prince, a politician even. How had he matured so much over so little time and still kept his playful demeanor? Granted during the six years they spent apart, anything could have happened. Here Jackson was taking an initiative to solve a problem that even Marks family had not tried to fix. Working alone and risking the favor of his country as well. When had Jackson transformed into this man?

Perhaps this new Jackson was a completely different person. After all, Mark never visited Ettore unless on very special occasions with his family. He never had a chance to see Jackson’s home life or upbringing, while Jackson had practically summered in Haruz every other year as a child and clearly saw Mark’s. Maybe he had just never considered Jackson could ever be serious, at least not for long periods of time. He somehow grew a professional appearance, yet stayed his mischievous, playful self. It boggled Mark’s mind. Mark watched as Jackson turned to look at Mark in confusion. Mark smiled slightly as he gazed at the man that he still had so much more to learn about.

“What? Is that a smile I see? Do you make fun of me?” Jackson jested with raised eyebrows, leaning towards Mark, diction falling back to that of an informal tone.

“No, no, “Mark dismissed with a small chuckle and a shake of his blonde head, “It's just refreshing to see this serious side of you.”

“Huh?” Jackson questioned as his thick eyebrows pulled together comically.

“Please,” Mark couldn’t help but laugh, “No part of your conduct could have ever convinced me that you would ever rise above torturing palace guards,” Mark finished half accusingly.

“What? I did nothing of the sort!” Jackson immediately denied, though his wide smile did nothing to prove his point.

“Oh and I suppose the flour incident facilitated itself?” Mark asked knowingly as he shifted to lean against the arm of the sofa, kicking Jackson’s leg on purpose.

“Exactly so,” Jackson answered before squirming away from Mark, “I mean, how could I, a young and innocent foreign prince, know exactly the moment when the cook would rush out of the kitchen to aid the maid servers in attempting to catch the loose pig while the man servants had already left to bring the crown prince his afternoon snack leaving the kitchen completely empty? Leaving the pantry quite unguarded,” Jackson expressed with wild hand and arm gestures.

Mark laughed loudly at the other prince. He leaned over and held onto Jackson’s arm for support as waves of laughter rolled past his mouth. Jackson joined in, mirth in his eyes as he watched the crown prince unwind on his shoulder. For some reason having Jackson around made Mark feel lifted, like he was able to let loose for a while. The Crown Prince reminded himself that Jackson was a friend. Despite their initial tension, Mark realized that he never could stay angry with or around Jackson. He could be himself around the Ettoren prince, without fear of being considered uncivil.

“You're impossible!” Mark gasped through deep breaths of laughter.

“I would more say genius,” Jackson countered playfully, “That is if it had been me, but it wasn’t,” Jackson quickly added when he saw Mark’s eyes flashed mischievously and his lips part to interject.

“If you say so,” Mark laughed and smiled warmly at Jackson.

Jackson’s smile fell into a more thoughtful one as his eyes met with Mark’s. Jackson briefly bit his lip before confessing, “I am glad you are not too angry. Thank you for still trusting me, Mark. It means a lot at the moment.”

Mark blinked back in shock. He stammered to answer, finding himself quite overcome by the emotion.

“I-I... How could I not?” He ended up replying, causing a grand smile to form on his handsome friend’s face.

The moment felt rather intimate. As it should, really. It was a reunion of two pieces of the same puzzle. Jackson and Mark had always fit together so perfectly. Their unlike disposition melded together to get them in all kinds of brilliant troubles as children. Mark hadn’t felt this sense of belonging for a long time, especially towards another person.

A little flustered, Mark stood up quickly, “I suppose you will need your old room?

“That would be nice,” Jackson replied, standing from the couch and following Mark through the passage and back into the bedroom.

“I will take you then,” Mark sighed, “After we see my father.”

“Eh? Wait- I-” Jackson immediately protested.

Mark simply turned around and glared at Jackson, silencing him completely, “There’s no way I’m letting you get away with sneaking in.”

“Aw come now, Mark!It is much too early to disturb your father. What ever happened to the boy that would sneak out with me and tell no one?” Jackson whined, following Mark out the door, much to the surprise of the two guards stationed outside.

Jackson gave them a brief wave and a smug look as they passed by.

Mark, face forward and not stopping in walk, responded grudgingly, “He fell out of a tree.”

“You cannot still be angry about that?” Jackson laughed nervously, “You only received bruises…”

Mark looked over his shoulder to glare at the mischievous prince, however he could not help but smile at Jackson's expression. It was one of nervous guilt, but ultimately happy. Mark was honestly enjoying reuniting with the other prince. He had forgotten how well he and Jackson melded, the Ettoren Prince always seemed to find a way out of the trouble he had always gotten the two into (a quality that he would need for the present moment). Mark turned his head back to look ahead of himself, laughing under his breath. They spent the rest of their walk in silence. The only change to their pattern was that Jackson had strode forward to walk aside Mark.

As they approached the King’s quarters, the guards on either sides of the hallways increased exponentially. Mark tried to keep his head forward as to not allow Jackson’s silent smugness distract himself whenever a guard recognized the Ettoren Prince. However, one or two glances could be spared, but then he would have to try twice as hard not to laugh at the amusement in Jackson’s eyes. Instead, Mark quickened his pace so that they would reach his father faster. When they had, they were met with the familiar face of an old friend.

“Henry!” Jackson exclaimed happily as they approached the greying man.

“Oh dear lord almighty, why must you test me?” The captain groaned, head tilting back to ask God.

“Why Henry, I barely recognized you! Time has definitely taken a liking to you,” Jackson commented, patting the man on the back in good nature.

“Thank you, Jackson,” Captain Henry sighed, “You seem to have matured as well... hopefully.”

“Captain Henry,” Mark interrupted, taking pity on his old protector, “Is my father in?”

Captain Henry took a moment to push some space between himself and Jackson before bowing, “Yes, your highness. Though, may I be so bold to ask why...Lord Jackson...is here?”  
Mark gave the captain the same unamused grimace he had given Jackson earlier, “He snuck in.”

“Ey! It was for good reason!” Jackson defended himself, throwing his hands in the air.

“I surely hope not,” Captain Henry replied grimly, causing Jackson to shrink away a bit, “because then I may be allowed to deal what you deserve.”

Jackson gulped before stepping back behind Mark, “What say we see your father now…”

Mark snorted in amusement, but nodded all the same. He motioned for one of the guards to knock and open the door. Mark stepped in wondering how his father would react...


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments so far, I'm glad you all find this interesting. Tbh its kinda been my baby for years now but I havent found the time to finish it (dont worry I have like the next 6 or 7 chapters written) so I was hoping you guys would motivate me to finish it up.

[ _Jackson was bored...tremendously bored. He had long lost interest in tracing patterns on his ceiling. Luckily for him, he had Mark. Jackson jumped off his bed and ran out of his room in the direction of the royal gardens. He sprinted across the castle causing a bit off a ruckus by dodging between cleaning staff and causing general panic wherever he stepped. When he reached the greenhouse, he was only slightly out of breath. Jackson stopped for a moment to catch his breath and fix his clothes before he entered the greenhouse. Upon doing so, he was buffeted with the thick, humid air in the room. The sound of dripping water plinked every now and then, but other than that there was no noise to suggest that the blonde prince was there. Even so, Jackson walked through the rows of orchids, amaryllis, chrysanthemum and other exotic plants. He rounded the corner of some banana trees to find Mark tucked between two large elephant ear plants, reading a book._

_“Why are you hiding? “ Jackson spoke suddenly, scaring the other to the point that Mark threw his book In the air._

_“Ja-Jackson! Knock next time!” Mark gasped as he fought his way through the elephant ear leaves in search of his book._

_“But there is no door,” Jackson mumbled, silently joining the other in his hunt._

_“Even so…” Mark refused to back down, despite the embarrassed flush seen on the tips of his ears._

_Jackson snickered quietly and continued to help Mark look for his book amongst the leaves, “I did not know so many plants existed.”_

_Mark looked up for a moment and explained with a wistful tone, “They are mostly from further south. Father commissioned a nomad from Tagul-Minora to bring them here.”_

_“They are pretty,” Jackson smiled as he gently shifted a flower to the side, revealing Mark's lost book. He picked it up and dusted it off before handing it to Mark, “But not as pretty as you!”_

_A shocked, choking noise erupted from the blonde prince’s mouth, “I am not pretty!”_

_“But my mother told me that you would like me to call you pretty,” Jackson pursed his lips and thought for a moment, “Or maybe it was handsome…”_

_“It is handsome you illiterate fool,” Mark sighed, “In the Haruz language pretty and handsome are two different things, Ka-Yee.”_

_“What? But do they not mean attractive? We only have one word for that in Ettoren. Why do you need two?” Jackson posed as he took a seat on the ground where Mark once sat._

_Mark sighed tiredly, “Pretty is for girls, fool. How can you not know this? Are you not four and ten?”_

_“Pardon me, your highness,” Jackson responded theatrically, placing a hand over his heart,_

_“Haruz is a much more complex language.”_

_Mark simply rolled his eyes and sat next to Jackson, reopening his book, “Fine then, do not make that mistake again and allow me read my book in peace.”_

_Jackson sighed but obliged. He settled next to Mark and read over his shoulder, trying to make sense of the more difficult words in Mark’s book. From what he could tell, it was an adventure story. Mark was at the end of the book where the hero was finally reunited with his wife and children. Jackson looked from the page up to Mark’s face and back down. Even If pretty was supposed to be associated with girls, he couldn't help but compare the descriptions of the book wife to his friend._

_“So are you sure you are not pretty?”_

_Mark groaned loudly and slammed his book closed before storming away to the greenhouse doors._

_“My one place of peace has been invaded by a fool!” Mark shouted as he exited, leaving Jackson laughing behind him._ ]

Jackson followed Mark into the King’s sitting room. It was an ornate room used solely for the family of the King or very important guests. Jackson had probably only been here once before when he was a young child, but couldn’t remember the most of it. All he remembered was the color blue and a warm feeling. Upon entering the room, Jackson quickly surmised that the blue was the paper covering the walls. It was the very same deep set blue that represented Haruz in their flag. The room seemed so foreign to him. The architecture was all arches and curves. The room was circular with a domed ceiling. The windows and doors had arches at their tops. Even the furniture curved; the sofas had hand carved lion’s feet and uneven backrests that were raised in the center before sloping down and back up into a smaller bend before falling back down. The room was decorated with lavish gold accent items and fresh flowers. Mark made his way to  
one of the couches, falling gracefully into the center of one of the cream colored cushions. Jackson followed silently, sitting next to Mark only to rise again when a servant entered, announcing the arrival of the King.

King Raymond had clearly aged since Jackson had last seen him. The years of ruling the kingdom left its marks in the grays of his hair and line on his forehead. The man was clearly tired, having tied a robe around himself before entering the room. He seemed to wake at the sight of Jackson. All the bleariness in his eyes cleared instantly and the King stood straight.

“Jackson Wang,” King Raymond whispered in shock.

Jackson immediately kneeled on the floor, bowing his head low. Under normal circumstances, a prince would simply bow his head if the King was his father or bow at the waist if the prince, as in Jackson’s case, was foreign. Yet, Jackson could see no other way to reflect his respect and intent than bowing as lowly as he could without dismantling his own stature, and that, was a knight’s bow.

“You may rise now, there is no need to bow so apologetically,” King Raymond commanded, voice still tinted with concern.

Jackson rose to his feet beside Mark and waited for the King to speak. He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the King’s gaze. It was as if he were analyzing Jackson for all he was worth. Eventually, the King shook himself out of his reverie and motion for Jackson and Mark to sit back down before sinking into his own throne like eat. The two princes obeyed without a word, their silent environment growing to a new level of unrest for Jackson.

“Wang Ka-Yee,” the King sighed, “It has been long since we last saw you. I can see you grew  
quite well in Ettore.”

“As well as I could, your majesty,” Jackson replied, nodding his head in respect.

The King regarded Jackson with an analytical gaze, humming in approval before continuing, “I was quite surprised to hear that Mark wanted to speak with me at this late hour, yet that surprise is no match for my current state. I would not have recognized you if I had not known your brother to be much older.”

“It was a bit of a surprise myself. My decision to come was rather spur of the moment and half as planned out as it ought to have been,” Jackson responded.

“Jackson, had I known you would have run away from home just for Mark, I might have let you marry him!” King Raymond guffawed.

Jackson smiled reluctantly while thinking to himself how much easier his life would be made by that statement. However, that was not the reason he was in Haruz. He was against his parents, sticking up for himself for the first time. He finally had finger on the ledge of control and he would not back down until he stood upon it.

“Unfortunately, Mark is not my driving factor,” Jackson denied, “I have come in hopes of solving the issues lying between our countries, namely the skirmish at the border.”

The King sat back in his chair as if in shock. The man leaned one arm over the arm rest and leveled Jackson with a long, hard gaze. Jackson once again felt the nervous need to retreat, yet his determination would not let himself do so.

“I must apologize,” the King began, breaking the silence, “It is just that…”  
King Raymond trailed off, eyes roaming over Jackson’s figure before shifting to meet his son’s eyes, “Have you ever seen him this respectful and...intentional?”

Jackson blinked in surprise, head moving to switch his gaze between Mark at his side and King Raymond in front of himself.

“It would seem he only does this in the presence of others,” Mark replied easily, “He went right back to his old self when he snuck into my room earlier tonight.”

The King raised an eyebrow at Jackson before huffing in laughter, “Now that sounds like him!”

Mark’s otherwise stoic face morphed into a smile as he chuckled along with his father. Jackson looked between the father and son in betrayal. Here he trying to be serious and yet they belittle him again, though he was glad to see the tensions drop. It would seem that the King felt no anger towards him.

“Ah, yet let us continue on our business,” King Raymond asserted, “Jackson, what makes you so sure you can solve this? How are you sure that Haruz is not conspiring against Ettore?”

Jackson frown at the accusations. He had not thought that the King would respond in such a way. The again, he had hardly planned what he would say and it was true that he did not know all the facts. Yet, his heart was telling him that something was amiss and neither country could be wholly blamed. Jackson was never one to go against his heart.

“I must admit that I know very little of the situation, a statement which by itself begs my own curiosity as it comes from a member of the Ettoren royal family itself. However, I cannot think of Haruz as so malicious. I have spent near fifteen years of my life in this country and have learned of its rulings of peace and justice. It is in my heart that I cannot accept the idea that Haruz would forsake the friendships it has shared with Ettore.” Jackson replied with passion. He had no idea where these words were coming from, but felt them rush out of him, unable to stop, “If I have learned anything about Prince Mark, your majesty, or this country, then I cannot sit at home and blindly believe that there is no second side of this story. And if I am wrong, then I will turn back and accept whatever fate my parents will have planned for me, however gruesome it may be. Ettore is not like this place. We are petty and cruel. Should Ettore have started this then I would have no trouble believing the truth. Yet, they are my people. If we are responsible I cannot sit idly, and if they are wronged I must avenge them, as they cannot.”

The King responded with slow applause. Jackson looked over in surprise as the man clapped slowly. The Ettoren gave a flustered look to Mark who only stared back at him in amazement.

“I think with a little polishing, you could have made a great King, Jackson. You have always worn your heart on your sleeve, especially when you were young. I am relieved to see that you still carry that philanthropy with you to this day. It is because your love of your people and your friends that I will help you in your endeavors. Frankly, I believe this will be a great opportunity for Mark to show his graces as future king of Haruz,” the King informed.

Mark nodded alongside Jackson, silently accepting his father’s wish.

“As for now, it is late. Mark still has his official crowning ceremony tomorrow, but after that his presence is not required at the festivities. I would suggest that you use that time to plan because this is all the help you will receive from me,” King Raymond asserted, “Mark, I will Haruz’s participation in your hands. Do not disappoint me or your people.”

With that the King stood from his chair, causing the two princes to stand and bow as the King made his exit.

“Goodnight boys, and may lady luck be on your side.”  
\-------------

Mark’s crowning ceremony went by with ease. Jackson had been allowed a special place beside the Princesses of the King and the Young Prince of Haruz, on account of his deep friendship with Mark. The ceremony consisted of a musical arrangement to which Mark paced down the center of the Grand Hall to the throne stage where his father stood waiting. Jackson was almost taken aback by the Mark’s striking features as he was donned with all the luxury of Haruz for the ceremony. The Haruz Crown Prince had his short blonde locks swept neatly back and tucked beneath his princely crown. The style accentuated Mark’s strong profile and slim face. He was decorated in a fitted pale yellow doublet with sapphire trim over a white chemise. His dark blue trousers were tucked into black leather boots with golden toes and buckles that clinked with every deliberate step he took. Mark held his head high, as a prince should, and emitted confidence as he walked.

For the first time, Jackson caught himself thinking that Mark was a man now, practically a King. Their childhood years had passed by in a flash. They were both now laden with the responsibility to care for a nation, albeit Mark more so than Jackson. The thought was sobering. Jackson realized that he did not have as much time as he thought. By the time Mark reached his father for the opening speech, Jackson had already made a promise to himself to cherish every moment he had left with Mark, and the rest of his Haruz family. Jackson had no idea how their predicament would turn out, and as he watched Mark received his crown, he hoped with all his being that it would end in both their favors.

The after party was filled with drinks and food. Mark made his rounds through the castle, showing off his figure as well as his crown. He was of age now, crown as the Crown Prince of Haruz, and the most desirable bachelor there ever was. His dance card filled with aristocrats’ daughters and ladies in waiting. He barely had a moment to spare, which never was spent with Jackson (to the Ettoren’s frustrations). It was late by the time the party died down enough for simple talking instead of dancing. The sky was dark behind the stained glass windows of the ball room. Mark stood at some point in the middle of it all greeting guests as Jackson watched from afar. Eventually, Jackson found himself trying to read through the politeness on Mark’s face, trying to see if the blonde was tired or thirsty or bored. He found himself still able to read Mark well, though Mark had definitely gotten better at hiding his emotions around general folk. He gave each person a lovely smile, indulged in their questions or conversations before excusing himself to the next guest.

At some point, Mark had excused himself to find himself a drink when he was corned by the ever so hyperactive Kunpimook Bhuwakul, the youngest prince of Tagul. Mark at first was surprised by the attack, dropping his drink from his lips in order to greet the puppy-like prince. Jackson couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. Mark quite obviously did not want to talk to the boy, Jackson could see it from across the room. As Jackson laughed at Mark, somehow, the Crown Prince found him in the crowd, eyes pleading for help. Jackson, as the good friend he was, could not deny the cry for help and made his way through the crowds to Mark.

“Ah, young Prince Bhuwakul. How are your brothers? I believe I last saw them at Beer’s own crowning celebration years ago,” Jackson jumped in, interrupting Kunpimook’s story of how he received his first sword for his birthday.

“Prince Ka-Yee! What a surprise! I never thought you would show your face here,” Kunpimook diverted his attention to the handsome Ettoren prince, eyes bright with childish delight.

“Yes, I do hope you do not mind,” Jackson replied smoothly, a slight chuckle within his voice, 

“Ah, but I must confess that my real reason for interrupting you was that I must steal the Crown Prince from you for a moment.”

“Oh, well would you mind if I come along? I would quite like to speak to the both of you...” Kunpimook proposed with deflated shoulders.

Mark looked over Kunpimook’s shoulder at Jackson with wide eyes and jaw clenched. Jackson valiantly held in his laughter.

“I must apologize, but I do not believe you can as these are work manners, young Prince,” Jackson tipped his head slightly in apology to the Tagul royal.

Kunpimook deflated even more, a pronounced pout adorning his lips. Mark quickly diverted the boy’s attention before he could begin to protest.

“Maybe tomorrow, then? After all, a party leaves no time for real conversation.” Mark offered as he brushed past the Tagul prince to Jackson’s side.

“Till we meet again,” Jackson dipped his head once more before gesturing for the Crown Prince to walk first. Yet, he did not miss the chance to rest a hand on Mark's lower back, using the fact the he was leading Mark elsewhere as an excuse. To hell, with manners and decorum, Jackson reveled in the distraught look the Tagul prince gave Mark’s back as Jackson led him away with the very intimate gesture. Jackson had finally gotten Mark to himself.

Only when Jackson had guided Mark to the back of the room did he drop his hand from Mark’s back. The blonde prince turned to Jackson with a look of relief as he leaned back onto the panes of stained glass adorning the walls, seemingly oblivious or even comfortable with Jackson's apparent skinship.

“Thank you. I do not know how much longer I could have stood there,” Mark confessed, smiling gratefully at Jackson.

“Propriety deserves a break sometimes. Would you not say?” Jackson smirked softly as he met gazes with Mark.

Jackson hoped Mark understood what he meant. The two young men shared a history of strict rules and manners. Growing up in royalty demanded the best out of them at every moment. Mark had been at this for the past two days. Yet, there was still a difference between the two. Mark was the first born son. He inherited crown and kingdom from the moment he was born. Jackson was second born male. He was only to be crowned should something happen to his brother. He was the backup plan and the political ploy. Mark knew his limits as did Jackson, however, the Ettoren prince had more chances to throw all properisms to the dogs. Jackson understood that and he would use that to advantage.

“ **Yi-En, let’s get out of here**.” Jackson switched to Ettoren, hoping to emphasize his secrecy.

Mark leveled Jackson with a serious gaze, “Ka-Yee.”

“ **What? Look around Prince- sorry, Crown Prince. No one would notice**.” Jackson pushed off from the stained glass and nodded in the direction of the party.

The guests were just as Jackson said. They were chatting and eating amongst themselves, unaware of their host hiding in the corner. Mark’s eyes glanced over the scene before turning back to his friend. It was a wonder that the two had become friends in the first place. Jackson had always been the adventurous and mischievous one, but Jackson supposed that's what the blonde admired in him. He always seemed to draw Mark’s youth to the surface, trying to make him feel like a person rather than a prince for once.

“ **Only for a moment** ,” Mark stressed, eyes unwavering in Jackson’s gaze.

Unfazed, Jackson smiled lightly and responded with a wink, “You are going to be a fantastic King, truly, **great poker face**.”

\--------

The greenhouse was almost overbearingly warm and humid when Mark and Jackson stepped in. They had snuck quietly away from the party and made their way to the familiar green, glass building with no consequences yet The plants were familiar to Jackson, not in the sense that he had seen them grow but that he knew where they came from. Mark had always taken a liking to the greenhouse plants, so Jackson had thought it was in his best interest to learn about them, as well. Mark led the way through the rows of plants and behind a row of noteworthy banana trees. Jackson smiled as they passed by the plant, remembering younger days when he had less of a load on his shoulders. Mark sat down on a rattan sofa behind the trees that was new to Jackson’s eyes. Mark reclined back into the cushions covering the uncomfortable material and gestured for Jackson to sit next to him.

With a smile, Jackson tried to ebb away the guilt swirling in his stomach as he sat next to the crown prince. His younger self would have done anything for this moment and often times did. Jackson could not come to terms with the things he did under his parents’ orders. It was shameful to him now and sitting next to Mark, who accepted him back to Haruz with barely a hint of anger, made him feel like a betrayer. Perhaps their five years apart did them good. Jackson felt as if he finally understood his parents’ plots in his life and the wickedness hiding beneath them. Even so, Jackson’s heart still jumped at the thought of being so familiar and accepted by Mark.

“It seems like we have changed a lot,” Mark eventually spoke out into the turgid air, “The both of us.”

Jackson sighed and gazed at the banana trees in front of them. Their trunks had grown taller and their leaves longer. A few had even sprouted the beginnings of little green bananas. They had fully matured into adult trees, however, they could not grow beyond the confines of the greenhouse.

“Yeah,” Jackson replied lamely, somehow at a loss of words for the first time in his life.

Mark smiled tiredly and shifted closer to Jackson so that his body was leaning onto Jackson, “It is mostly for the good, though.”

“I hope,” Jackson huffed, turning to look at Mark.

“What did you do...after you left? Did you ever miss Haruz?” Mark questioned with concerned eyes and a lip worried between his teeth.

“I just went back to studying and practicing, though, yes, there were definitely days where I missed Haruz. This place has been a second home to me, which is why I do not want to lose my connection with it.” Jackson admitted.

“Just Haruz?” Mark prompted with a raised brow.

Jackson recognized the challenge in Mark’s wonderfully brown eyes. Mark seemed to have also grown in wit during their time apart. He easily unveiled the secrets behind Jackson’s statement, a trait that both thrilled and terrified the Ettoren male.

“Haruz would be nothing without you,” Jackson demurred.

Mark smiled, whispering, “So trite,” despite seeming pleased with the remark.

Jackson shook his head in discontent, pulling away from Mark jokingly. Mark laughed in response before pulling the other closer again, this time resting his cheek on the other’s shoulder, contentedness easing the contour of his face.


	4. 4

[ _“Hey Mark.”  
Mark looked up from his book to his friend, now at the ripe age of five and ten, brandishing sheepish frown over his lips._

_“Will you spar with me?” Jackson asked gently, hands moving to toy with the long leather cord tying back his hair._

_“Sure, but why do you seem so nervous?” Mark squinted up to the uncharacteristic actions coming from the boy._

_“Well, just… you grew angry with me last time I interrupted your reading. I was not sure if I should speak to you,” Jackson replied honestly._

_His posture had relaxed greatly now that Mark showed no ill will towards him. Jackson reached down and held out his hand to help Mark stand. Mark laughed and tucked his book under his arm before reaching out and clasping his hand within Jackson’s. Jackson pulled him up with surprising strength, making Mark feel weightless for a moment until he was face-to-face with Jackson’s beaming face._

_“How considerate of you,” Mark teased as he stepped around Jackson, desperately trying to find a hold on gravity._ ]

Mark was allowed to sleep in the next day, much to his own gratitude. Yet despite the extra sleep, he knew that he had a long and hard day ahead of him, filled with meeting after meeting and controversy after controversy. Kris came to wake him after the sun had risen past the mountains in the distance. After dressing into his day clothes, he followed Kris to the dining hall where he met his parents and brother for breakfast. Mark bowed his head to the king and queen in respect before sitting at the table. Not a moment later, servants came and placed dishes in front of the royal family. Mark immediately began eating, but paused as he looked up at the table.

He finished chewing his food before looking over to his father, “Did you not invited Jackson to eat with us?”

“I did, yet my servant returned saying he was nowhere to be found,” the King replied over the rim of his glass.

“Nowhere to be found,” Mark repeated with disbelief, “Where could he possibly hide?”

“You must have forgotten your childhood then,” Mark’s mother chimed in with a laugh, “You and Jackson always had places where no eyes could find you.”

Mark bit back a smile in response to the statement. It was rather true. He was surprised to this day that no one had ever seen them hiding amongst the leaves of the elephant ear plants or within the recesses of the castle. If his father’s servants could not find him, then Mark would have to do it himself, not that he disliked the idea.

Mark cleared his throat and stood, “I shall go and find him then.”

“Yes, yes,” King Raymond waved him off, “Make sure he finds something to eat.”

Mark nodded and left the room. He made his way to the gardens first, figuring that was the most likely spot for Jackson to be hiding in. The hallway to the garden was made with large, arched windows with no glass so that one could experience the grandeur without barriers. Mark was surprised to see a collection of gardening maids huddled around one of these windows, gigging profusely. Mark snuck up behind the group, glancing through the window to see what the ruckus was all about. He nearly regretted that action.

Moving about the garden (in all his shirtless glory) was Jackson, brandishing a sword and cutting it through a target made of hay. Mark blushed at the scene before him. The early morning sun left a soft glow on the strong planes of Jackson’s back. His sweat glistened like the dew in the garden as it rolled down taut muscle. Jackson shifted from on foot to the other gracefully, swinging his sword with calculated precision. The maids’ giggling broke Mark from his stupor. Instead of focusing on the fact that he had very much been admiring his friend, he became angry at the maids. He stepped closer to the group of girls before him with a deep frown upon his face.

Mark cleared his throat loudly and spoke when the girls jumped in surprise, “Do you not have jobs to be done?”

One of the maids squeaked out and apology, furiously pulling her friends down into a deep bow with her before pulling them away from Mark and down the hall. Mark allowed a small pleased smile to grace his features at their terrified escape. However, this left him with the window all to himself and in full view of Jackson.

“Mark?” 

Mark jerked in surprise, turning towards the window and looking out to Jackson. The Ettoren prince had stopped his practicing at the sound of the commotion and was now peering through the bushes to catch eyes with Mark.

“Ah, stay there,” Mark called back, “I will come to you.”

Mark did not wait for Jackson’s response as he quickly walked down the corridor and to an opening that led out to the garden. He followed the stone path to the stretch of grass that Jackson had claimed for fencing practice.

“Why are you out here so early?” Jackson asked, though his words were paused as labored breath permeated them.

Mark denied that he felt any attraction to the change in caliber of Jackson’s voice, “You did not come for breakfast and none of my father’s servants could find you.”

Jackson nodded before turning to the side where he had deposited his cotton undershirt and put it on quickly, “So you came to find me? Sorry for the trouble.”

“I do not mind,” Mark admitted, choosing to look at the beautifully trimmed gardens rather than Jackson fixing his shirt, “Anyhow, you must eat something. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Why of course, your highness!” Jackson grinned and mock bowed, crossing his arm over his stomach as a butler would, “Lead the way, if you will?”

Mark huffed a laugh and turned away, leading the other back to the castle.

“I think you should bathe first,” Mark jested at the stench Jackson's body odour.

\--------------------------  
After Mark had left Jackson at his room, he returned to the dining hall to find that his family had finished their meal without him. Slightly upset, Mark decided to wait until Jackson joined him to continue his own meal. Soon enough, a wet haired and fresh faced Jackson was led in the dining hall by Kris. The Ettoren Prince seated himself across the table from Mark with a smile. 

Jackson looked to his right and left in confusion, “Are your parents not eating as well?”

“It would seem they already finished,” Mark informed as he nodded to Kris, signaling the man to bring out the food.

Jackson’s eyes widened in realization, “How rude of me! I-”

“Do not fret,” Mark interrupted, laughing at Jackson’s expression, “You can always confess your woes at diner.”

“Well, that is not possible,” Jackson challenged as the food came out.

“How so?” Mark asked as he picked up a fork, his hunger returning twofold.

“I seem to remember you offering to have dinner with Young Prince Bhuwakul yesterday,” Jackson smirked and pushed his wet hair from his face.

Mark’s mouth dropped as his hand came up to rub at his temple, a terrible groan leaving his lips, “Dear god, I forgot about that. Please say you will come with me. I’ve had enough suitors throw themselves at my feet for the week.”

Jackson simply laughed at his friend’s misery but responded none the less, “If it would please you, then yes. Yet, I cannot imagine any suitor that would not ‘throw themselves at your feet.’ You are the most handsome bachelor on the continent.”

Mark quirked an eyebrow at Jackson’s last sentence. Was it that Jackson thought he was handsome? Or was he playing another joke? Furthermore, why did he care whether Jackson thought he was handsome or not. Was Jackson not also a handsome bachelor? Mark shook his head and told himself to stay on track. They were together to figure out what was happening between Ettore and Haruz before war broke out. Just that and nothing more.

“Anyways,” Mark cleared his throat, “My father has scheduled us a meeting with some of our army generals. We need to hear their account of what has been happening at the border before we formulate our plan.”

Jackson looked up from his food, playfulness morphing into a seriousness that took Mark by surprise every time, “That is wise. I will look forward to it.”

Mark noticed the determination in Jackson’s eyes but said nothing of it, “Good. We should go when we are done eating.”

\---------------------------

After they had finished eating, Mark led Jackson to the meeting hall where his father’s generals were waiting. When Mark entered the room, all the men stood from their seats and bowed to the Crown Prince. Mark waved the gestures away and moved to stand at the head of the table, Jackson following close behind. On the table before them was a map of Haruz, finely detailed and thoroughly made. Small figures and tacks were placed over the southern border between Haruz and Ettore. The two princes stood at the head of the table and looked out to the collection of people surrounding the long table in the center of the room. Four army generals sat on the left side of the table, with them Captain Henry sat at Mark’s direct left. On the right sat the Minister of Foreign Affairs and two of the King’s personal advisors. There was one seat empty: the Ettoren Council. Mark prayed that Jackson would not mention the absence.

“Jackson, please sit,” Mark ordered, gesturing to the empty chair before turning to address the men in the room, “You all must know why my father has asked for your presence. As such, this battle is not only of Haruz but of Ettore too. For this reason, Prince Ka-Yee has joined on our ranks to formulate support from our Ettoren friends.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your highness,” one of the generals spoke, “But I can hardly think to call Ettore a friend now. If we cannot trust an advisor of the council what is there to say about others?”

Mark tried and failed to withhold his anger. To speak such things in front of the Ettoren Prince, himself, was rude beyond belief. He would have been quick to respond had it not been for the tight smile and nearly imperceptible nod Jackson sent towards him. Mark glanced at the prince from the corner of his eyes before swallowing his words.

“Prince Ka-Yee has come in assurance of his complete cooperation. I have placed my whole trust in him. If you will not, then place your trust in me,” Mark finally replied, giving each face a meaningful look.

“If anyone else has any oppositions, please speak now. I would like to get this meeting started as fast as possible.”

Mark waited a minute before continuing, “Good. Now, General Smith, report please.”

The general coughed a bit and cleared his throat nervously before standing, “My forces have been the most responsive on the southern border, as that is my area of command. We first heard of complaints nearly six years ago. Back then, they were few and far between, however, as the years passed they became more frequent. More recently it seems like the Et- opposing forces have gained more power and confidence.”  
The general pointed over to the map, “The tacks represent villages or farms that have been harmed by the assailants. The ‘x’s’ are where my forces have battled.”

“You have seen them then?” Jackson interrupted the general’s speech.

“Ah, yes,” General Smith responded a bit taken about.

“If you have seen them, fought them man to man, why is there a continual issue between Haruz and Ettore? Can you swear by the King that these forces are Ettoren?” Jackson countered, elbows moving to rest on the table as he leaned forward with inquiring posture, “My people are not as diverse as the Haruz. It is quite a simple task to identify us.”

The general looked petrified. Mark found this to be rather interesting. Jackson made a valid point. Surely there was something amiss in the general’s reports. Had the squirmish been going on for six years already, it was a wonder that Haruz and Ettore hadn’t already plunged into war.

“Answer the quest General Smith,” Mark commanded, eyebrows furrowed, “I am quite curious.”

“The truth is, your highnesses, well. As of recent skirmishes, no, we cannot identify the foreign troops. They bear no flags or armour of Ettore, however, it would seem that some of their weapons are common Ettoren craft.” General Smith replied cautiously.

Mark regarded Jackson’s reaction to the information. The foreign prince leaned forward and rested his chin upon his hands, eyebrows furrowed as he processed the information. 

“Elaborate,” Jackson continued simply.

“Their arrows bear the characteristics of Ettoren craft, black feathers and willow shafts,” the general explained.

“And what of their other weapons?” Mark asked.

“Some from Haruz, metal from Ettore and spears and shields from old Calyx Corya.” General Smith clarified.

“Old?” Jackson asked, eyebrow quirking at the word choice.

“Yes,” the general continued, “They seem to be in resemblance of the overturned King’s armies. It’s highly likely that they have been stolen as the military was weakened by the new King’s return. Many were defeated and their weapons collected. We assumed that the original attacks were land seekers from Ettore, with some evidence to prove those identities, but since the fall of Old Corya they we able to amass a stronger force.”

Jackson nodded at the new information and made an appreciative noise. Mark did not know much of Calyx Corya, other than the fact that they had been filled with turmoil and civil war since before Mark was even born. They had only recently been notified of the great troubles which had befell the royal family. The new King was close to Mark’s age but seemed to be great in wisdom despite his apparent upbringing within a tribe of woodsmen. Haruz had decide to stay as uninvolved as possible and wait to meet the new King before extending their approval. It was then that he remembered Jackson mentioning his brother making a visit to the kingdom. Perhaps he had any more information on the nation.

“Jackson,” Mark called the man’s attention, “Your brother is aiding the new King, is that correct?”

Jackson nodded in confirmation.

“Then do you possess any further information on the country or its people?” Mark continued.

“I cannot admit I know much,” Jackson replied, shifting so that his was sitting straight in his chair, “The kingdom of Calyx Corya has been through civil war for decades, only recently ending with the reclaiming of the throne. It seemed that the capital city warred between itself and the tribal peoples, however, it has come to our information that the royal family was betrayed by the brother of the King, who arranged for the deaths of the royal family in order for his ascension to the throne. The usurper King's nephew and original heir reclaimed the throne and deposed his uncle. Whatever that was left of the usurper King's armies were scattered. As Ettore being their closest neighbor, we received some but turned most away as to stay on good terms with the new King. The country itself is high in woodlands and thus most of its weapons are wood based. In the past they have mined what little ore that is found in the north and the rest was mostly traded from Ettore's mountains.”

Mark took time to observe the information thoroughly. Was it possible that the conflict was due to a bunch of outcasts from an old regime? Jackson had been to the utmost sincerity that whatever fighting that had been going on was no under the direct orders of Ettore. Yet, that did not eliminate them from blame. It could be anarchist Ettorens or even rogues living in the remote area in between Haruz and Ettore. They had narrowed down their possible suspects, but without clear view there was no way of assigning blame.

“Is that all the information you have gathered, General?” Mark prodded.  
“Erm, well…” The general hesitated, “They only attack at night…”

Jackson suddenly sighed loudly beside him. The Ettoren prince closed his eyes and massaged at the bridge of his nose, “So what I am hearing is that the reason you cannot identify these rogues is because you buffoons literally cannot see them. And you are telling us this, now?”

“Jackson,” Mark sighed at the choice of insult, yet he felt the same.

“Did I make offense?” Jackson asked, feigning confusion, “I still must know your language well.”

Mark quirked an unamused eyebrow at Jackson before moving on.

“Advisor Hern,” Mark looked to his right to the two advisors seated there, “How long is a journey to the southern border?”

“It all depends on the circumstances, my Prince,” the advisor replied respectfully.

“Say I bring a small army of fifty men, all on horseback,” Mark postulated, “When would we reach Onowa?’

The advisor took a minute to calculate the question, hands moving on the table as if pushing numbers. His hands halted when he had come up with his answer, “On account of the number of men, and assuming equipment and rations paired with the seasonal day, I would say about a week at the most.”

“General Smith, how many men do you currently have stationed in the south?” Mark turned to ask.

“My liege, surely you are not-” The general asked in shock only to be interrupted by Mark.

“Answer the question, general,” Mark enforced.

“2,000 permanent soldiers, but they dispersed throughout the border. There are currently 200 solely around Onowa due to the recent skirmishes.

“Why so few?” Jackson postulated. 

“The opposing forces may have grown in number but they are nowhere near the power of Haruz,” the general explained. 

“Hm,” Mark hummed in approval, “General Collins, you reside over our Western Border. Has there been any Ettoren intervention there?”

“No, your majesty,” the Western General replied, “All is quiet among the Tuns.”

“What of the north or east?” Mark asked, looking to the two remaining generals.

“All is well in the East, your majesty, but we bear no border save for the sea,” Eastern General Phillips replied.

“As in the north, sire,” Northern General Brown nodded along.

Mark nodded and glanced around the room, gauging the men’s faces. He honestly could only think of one solution. Mark glanced over to Captain Henry out of the corner of his eyes. Surely he wouldn’t like it, but something had to be done. This issue has been dragged along for far to long and with far too little effort to stop or even identify it. Mark leaned forwards onto the table and copied Jackson’s posture from earlier. 

“Gentlemen, it would seem that, despite the longevity of this issue, we have absolutely no reliable information,” Mark nearly growled but refrained himself from doing so, “I can only see one solution to this and even that is not so much of one, rather the start to one.”

“Your highness, what do you mean?” One of the advisors asked in confusion.

“I propose we send a team to Onowa in order to gain thorough information. We shall have General Smith’s men in surrounding areas for back up if need be,” Mark explained.

“But who will go, your majesty?” General Brown asked, “Surely if you say General Smith’s men will be in surrounding areas, then you do not plan on using them.”

“Precisely,” Mark agreed.

To the side, Captain Henry groaned and spoke for the first time, “Crown Prince Mark, surely you do not mean to go yourself?”

All the men at the table, except Jackson, immediately voiced their concerns. They all spoke at once and Mark was beginning to question if they were really adults. Mark abruptly raised and open palm, the men sitting around him quieting immediately. Their protests fell short of their mouths.

“I am not so naive as to go alone,” Mark sighed, quickly growing tired of the meeting.

The men around him sighed in relief.

“Jackson will be coming with me,” Mark added with a smirk.

The men once again broke out in various “your highness!” and “Your majesty!” Captain Henry sighed and lifted a hand to rub a his temple.

“Crown Prince,” Captain Henry broke through the protests, “As Captain of the Royal Guard and having sworn an oath to protect both your father and any who carry his name, I do not think I can approve of this.”

“I realize that, Captain,” Mark replied, “However, I can hardly see you disagreeing if you were to assign my personal guard to come with us.”

“I-” Captain Henry started but quickly sighed in defeat, “You will have to gain approval of your father first.”

“That I plan to,” Mark responded with confidence.

He took a moment to let the verdict settle among the men. Mark briefly caught the tail end of uncertainty in Jackson’s eyes as the man stared back at him. Mark allowed his face to harden, showing complete confidence in order to convince them (but mostly Jackson).

“I believe we are done then. We may meet again on later date to further discuss the plan. For now, I suggest you all wait in town until you hear from either me or my father. You are dismissed,” Mark ordered, staying seated as the men rose and bowed to him before leaving the room.

Jackson stayed seated and silent beside him until the room was emptied. Mark looked over to him in questioning, however Jackson continued to stare ahead, pensive. Mark leaned on one hand, face towards Jackson. The raven haired prince seemed to be troubled. He worried his pink lower lip between his teeth as he stared off into empty space.

“Ka-Yee,” Mark called out, tapping the table to gain his attention.

Jackson jumped slightly and turned to Mark, eyes training on Mark’s face.

“What is it?” Mark asked knowingly.

Jackson release his lip in favor for biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes dropped before looking back up, gaze serious, “If it is Ettore causing problems...I-I do not know where that leaves us.”

“Us?” Mark wished he would explain more to save his own heart.

“Haruz, Ettore, you, me,” Jackson sighed, hand coming up to smooth over his tied back hair, “ **It would mean war Mark. Unless I could somehow go home and convince my parents to listen to the situation.** ”

“Surely it would not evolve to that,” Mark consoled, “ **You being here means that Ettore put some effort into solving this issue. If anything, it only strengthens our bond**.”

“That is what I mean!” Jackson suddenly exclaimed, “ **Ettore has put no effort into solving this issue!** It is just me! Not my parents, not my brother, me! I carry the weight of my country and yours on my back. **I feel as if I have put too much on the stake to be deserving you and your father's trust**.”

“Well then,” Mark huffed, “You best figure something out because you have my trust and I will not back away, Ka-Yee. Do not doubt yourself.”

Mark stood and placed himself closer to Jackson. Jackson gave Mark an unconvinced frown, reaching over to pat Mark’s shoulder before standing.

“The battle has not yet begun. You still need to tell your father,” Jackson reminded the blonde prince.

“Me? I was under the impression that we would both do it,” Mark replied, eyebrows furrowed.

“I believe you said ‘That I plan to,’” Jackson stressed the ‘I.’

Mark glared at the Ettoren, internally cursing his word choice.

\------

Mark went about his duties in the hours following the meeting. He had requested an audience with his father and was able to explain his consensus. After much toiling, he eventually convinced the King. They were set to leave by the end of the month, not wanting to waste anymore time. That did not give them much time to prepare. Mark had been wandering around the castle ever since he talked with his father. The motion of walking helped to ease his mind, yet, the stress of it all was starting to get to Mark. Despite of his own problems though, he kept thinking of the situation from Jackson’s perspective. After speaking with his father, Mark was beginning to understand how much Jackson had at stake and how much stress would be building up on him as the month passed. He only hoped he could find a way to lift the other man’s load. Jackson had confided in him after the meeting, but Mark deeply thought that there was more to the issue. But, he supposed that’s just how Jackson works. Even when they were young, Jackson was the type to keep his feelings bottled up, preferring to smile or laugh so that no one would worry about him or so that he could have the same affect on others. Mark was definitely the opposite as a child. Where Jackson was all confidence and happiness, Mark was worrisome and questioning. He often times would show his true emotions. He did not voice them often, with the exception of Jackson or his family. As he grew older, he learned to hide his emotions better. It came with being a ruler, he supposed. “Let thy mind rule over thy heart,” Mark’s father would say. Though sometimes, Mark didn’t believe that was so smart.

The time had already passed midday and Mark had yet to see Jackson. A fact which he was dreading because he had promised Kunpimook a dinner invitation, to which Jackson promised to come. Dinners and political meetings at a time like this? Mark sighed depressingly, he may be twenty and one but he still had a lot to learn.

“Mark!”

Mark looked up to see Jackson walking his way. The black haired prince had changed into more formal clothes, replacing his Haruz fitted shirt for his traditional Ettoren robe. The deep violet color made his skin seem lighter and Mark had to admit that he looked rather handsome in it. 

“You can be a hard man to find sometimes,” Jackson smiled as he approached the Haruz prince. 

“I could say the same for you,” Mark quirked an eyebrow, “Where have you been hiding since the meeting?”

“I had some things to attend to concerning my stay,” Jackson replied as he fell into step with Mark, letting the older lead him to where they were set to meet Prince Kunpimook of Tagul.

“Like?” Mark asked.

“To start, clothes,” Jackson suddenly smirked devilishly, showing off his flowing robe with cinched waist and tight sleeves. “My old clothes do not seem to fit anymore. I wonder why. I think I must have grown taller!”

“Not tall enough,” Mark joked along, unable to hold his laughter at Jackson’s scandalized expression.

“I believe I am quite tall enough!” Jackson growled, “We are practically the same height, your highness.”

“Except that we are not,” Mark denied with an amused smile.

“I shall never concede to that,” Jackson simply responded before changing the subject, “Anyways, I also had to check if Li was received well.”

“You mean the inane black horse that nearly trampled half the outer guard?” Mark asked knowingly.

“I would say he is very well trained,” Jackson corrected, “But yes, that would be the one.”

Mark chuckled and shook his head, “I feel as if I learn something new and remember something old everyday with you.”

“Well it has only been... three days?” Jackson turned his statement into a question, seemingly in disbelief himself.

“It feels as if it has been longer,” Mark sighed with a content smile, “Yet, I still ask myself ‘Who is this man?’”

“I suppose we will have time to catch up later, however now I believe I hear Young Prince Kunpimook in the sitting room,” Jackson stated as they came upon a set of large wooden doors, the same ones where Mark had seen Jackson walk through those very few days ago.

“Lord give me strength,” Mark whispered under his tongue.

Jackson caught the sentiment and smirked, “I thought that was why I am here.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson had taken the liberty to receive some fresh air outside in the gardens that night. He walked the familiar path from the main gardens to the more private royal gardens near Mark’s own quarters. There, the darkness licked at delicate rosebuds, closed and cozy for the cool fall nights. The rose bushes formed complex mazes that would trick anyone unfamiliar to the grounds. Yet, Jackson was no stranger to their thorns. He easily walked through the labyrinth, exiting into a trail topped with a wooden slatted roof. Wisteria vines weaved in between the slats and dangled down. Their flowers had stopped blooming long ago, leaving only the bare woody vines. Jackson eagerly walked through the covered path to his final destination: the greenhouse.

Jackson couldn’t tell from the outside whether Mark was inside or not. The condensation covered windows muddled everything behind them.Jackson was not as interested in the plants held within, but Mark had an unspoken attachment to them. Early on in his memories Jackson could rmember finding Mark there reading or tending to the flowers. He had learned about a select few over the years, soley for the sake of Mark. He could not help but love the light in Mark’s eyes when they conversed on the subject much more thrilling than the subject itself. Jackson liked the green house mostly because of its solitude and, well, because Mark loved it.

Jackson quickly entered the greenhouse, letting the warm, humid air cover him in a blanket of exotic scents. Jackson gave a few deserving glances to the foreign beauties before continuing on his original path. The old banana trees’ leaves no longer hid Mark’s hideaway from view. Their trunks had grown and spread their broad leaves much like a cage around Mark’s hidden nook. Even so, he saw Mark before the blonde saw him. Mark was reclined on the rattan sofa, eyes closed and feet propped up on the opposite arm rest. He had changed into a simple blouse and cotton pants since their dinner with Young Prince Kunpimook. Jackson himself had stripped down to his tunic and leggings for comfort. Jackson easily sided through the banana trees and quietly stepped over to Mark.

Jackson chuckled and leaned over the front of the couch, bracing his hands on the armrest on either side of Mark’s head, “Long day?”

Mark’s eyes shot open, body tense until he recognized Jackson above him, “Yes, mostly because of you.”

Jackson laughed and moved away as Mark lifted a hand and swatted at him, “Funny, I thought I lifted a bit of your burden.”

Mark glared at him, “I am quite sure Prince Kunpimook would disagree.”

Jackson scoffed and sat on the edgre of the sofa by Mark’s feet, “Come now! Could you not stand his blatant flirting? I think he made his true intentions for coming here quite obvious; you have said so, yourself!”

“Ka-Yee,” Mark chastised, “I highly doubt a courtship between myself and the twelve-year-old prince of Tagul is viable.”

“He’s five and ten,” Jackson grumbled.

“Still not nearly old enough, even if he is the third born son,” Mark reminded as Jackson leaned further into the couch with a pout marring his face.

“Why are you so concerned? Are you perhaps jealous?” Mark joked, confident smirk on his face.

Jackson raised an eyebrow in response. He said nothing as leaned over into Mark’s space. Mark’s confident expression waned as Jackson drew closer. The Ettoren Prince leaned over Mark, bracing his hands on either side of Mark’s head on the arm rest. He lifted one leg so that the knee was propped up on the remaining space beside Mark on the couch. Jackson dropped his head so that it was only a breath away. Mark’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly. His expression reminded Jackson of the cute little prince of his past.

“Never,” Jackson nearly growled, his voice deep and restrained.

Mark swallowed nervously, Jackson eyes following the movement of the blonde’s adam’s apple before he copied the motion. It was all he could take before he stood quickly, straightening his tunic and chasing away the feelings in his gut. He wouldn’t allow himself to be affected by Mark now of all times. If only he knew how unfair it all was. Jackson could betray his parents time and time again if that meant Mark was unharmed. Yet, it was thoughts like that that hurt Jackson the most. He feared that one day he would succumb to his feelings, but he could never let himself do that.

Jackson laughed convincingly enough to dispel the tension. Mark’s expression blinked back to one of friendliness as Jackson pushed the Prince’s legs off the sofa and sat in the newfound space. Mark shifted to sit normally.. They were silent for a long time, simply looking up through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse. The sparkling of the stars through fog covered windows created a lovely show of soft lights, like lanterns behind paper screens. Jackson let his eyes close as he leaned back against the sofa, reveling in the warmth of not only the greenhouse, but in the closeness of Mark.

“I was devastated when I heard you weren't coming back,” Mark spoke, breaking the silence with a soft whisper.

He spoke as if he was not sure if he should speak, or rather approach the topic that had been swirling around them for years. Jackson opened his eyes and turned to look at Mark. The blonde prince was still looking up. 

“You never even responded to my letters, eventually my sister had to convince me to stop sending them.”

The soft lights illuminated his pale skin and hair, sparkling in his eyes like a masterpiece painting. Jackson quickly turned away, looking up once again.

“I...I was rather surprised when my mother told me,” Jackson confessed hesitantly.

“Surprised?” Mark prompted, this time turning to face Jackson, “Just surprised?

“Well...” Jackson started but was unable to finish.

[ _“Ka-Yee,” the Queen spoke the name of her youngest son, sickly gentle and empty, “Your father and I have decided to make a change of plans in your future.”_

_Ka-Yee straightened in his seat, unsurprised at his parents’ meddling in his life but concerned of what this trist would entail._

_“ The Kingdom of Haruz holds no respect for us anymore, therefore we will be withdrawing our support until an apology is made.” The Queen informed with no remorse, “Furthermore, we will not allow you to spend any more time in Haruz. Your studies will immediately be transferred back here and you will continue schooling in your own homeland. There will be no contact with anyone in Haruz, especially its prince.”_

_Ka-Yee stared back at his mother, face white. Every part of his body went numb in an instant. He was unable to think or breathe for reasons unknown to him. It was like Ka-Yee’s whole world had crashed down on top of him and raised back up again. Was he free? His glass slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the table with a loud clink, the sharp noise resonating throughout the silent room. Servants rushed to the table to stop the liquid that had escaped from his glass, breaking his line of sight to his mother’s soulless frown._ ]

He couldn’t tell Mark about the feeling of relief that washed over him when his parents relayed the information. The fleeting feeling of freedom from something so ugly and intimidating that terrified him into blind compliance since birth. The break away from Haruz had freed even just a piece of himself from his mother’s grasp. Yet, it proved to be even more trouble for him later in life.

“Honestly Jackson, did you feel anything more at all? I think with at least of fifteen years of friendship you at least owe me to open up,” Mark sighed, hand moving to grasp at Jackson arm.

Jackson turned to the other in shock, gaze ripped away from the stars by Mark’s harsh words.

“What?” Mark frowned, “You've always had a shield around you, Jackson. You were friendly to a point as a child. You always had attention upon you, but when it became too discerning you would create a new mess and flip back to this superficial side of you. Now that you are back, I thought...well, I had hoped that you would have trusted me more, considering the circumstances. Yet, I still feel that you are withholding something. I know I am often silent, but it is not because I have nothing to say.”

Jackson swallowed guiltily. It was not apathy that Mark had noticed, but rather avoidance. Jackson avoided deep feelings, deep friendships, deep secrets. Jackson had grown up to his mother forcing his hand. He wasn’t alllowed to be close to anyone but Mark. Any others were a waste of his time. But the time he spent in Haruz caused him to question his mother’s motives. He questioned what was right and wrong. He questioned why he allowed himself to go on with the charade. Yet, he found that he was rather selfish and maybe that his morals were a bit skewed. Jackson wanted to be around Mark. He felt safe around the foreign prince and his family. Mark was an escape for him. Sure, he liked hanging around the boy, but it was more of what he offered Jackson that enabled his compliance. In the past he often thought that if Mark happened to like him in a more than friendly way, Jackson wouldn’t be opposed it. He wouldn’t necessarily encourage it either. He desperately needed Mark’s friendship to save him from his family, from his ‘service’ to his country. He would have to be a little selfish for once. With that in mind he kept all romantic thoughts at bay, despite their increasing nature as of late. Such feelings would be unfair to Mark as they were mostly based on lies.

“But Jackson, I should hope that you've known me long enough to realize that you can tell me anything,” Mark sighed, breaking the silence once again.

Jackson tensed as he desperately searched for his will. When had it left him? For nearly twenty years he had held on, but now with a few words from Mark's pretty mouth, it flew away like fireflies in the night.

“I…” Jackson started and shifted away from Mark slightly. He was quickly losing composure, Mark’s words hit too close to his heart. It made him nervous and scared. But then, he was speaking before he could stop himself, “I think… I may have realized that… I am… fonder… of you than I once thought.”   
Jackson swallowed reluctantly, hesitant to release even part of his inner truth, “My reason for coming here was to settle the dispute between our countries, but I also think that… I came for you, even if I denied it to myself… I missed you.”

Jackson had shifted his gaze away from Mark and back up to the sky. He was afraid. Afraid because Mark was affecting him too much. Their ties were getting too deep, the lines of fate twisting and knotting into a cluster unable to be detangled. Jackson was afraid that Mark would tear him down completely, that he would bring Jackson’s walls down brick by brick finding his affections and releasing the truths of their childhood. The two were connected irrevocably, for to love Mark was to tell him the truth. Yet, the truth would destroy any chance for that love. 

“Oh, Jackson,” Mark cooed teasingly, “Was that really so hard?” 

But it was hard.

Mark scooted closer to Jackson, pressing into his side and wrapping an arm around Jackson’s shoulders. He bumped Jackson with the side of his head and chuckled quietly.  
“So you do have feelings after all.” 

[ _“Mother, why do I have to know all these things?” a young Ka-Yee asked as he rebelliously dropped his book to his desk._

_“These are the things that Prince Mark is studying in Haruz. A servant in their household has told me that the young price has taken a liking to plants recently. You shall know these species by the summer when you visit the Prince again.” The Queen ordered, her tone final._

_“But I do not like them! What is so interesting about…” Ka-Yee squinted down at the open book before him, “orr-ch-ids…?”_

_“Orchids happen to remind the Prince of his mother,” the Queen replied distastefully, “They are one of his favorites. It does not matter how you feel about them, only how he does.”_

_“But do I get to feel at all?” Ka-Yee yelled in frustration._

_The Queen turned her head to face her youngest son for the first time, a glare already settled on her face. The young prince shrunk back in fear, already regretting raising his voice._

_“No, Ka-Yee,” she responded, voice cold, “Feelings do not serve royalty.”_ ]

If only he knew. If only he knew how hard it was. Jackson felt as if he couldn’t fight it anymore, his growing feelings for Mark. Feelings that would only get him in trouble. Jackson sighed and decided to succumb this one time. If he didn't, he would probably explode. He could be selfish. It wasn’t any different from normal. Was it? Jackson could barely find himself in his web of lies now. Were these affections of his own making? What were his desires? Which were his mother’s?

The inviting warmth from under Mark's arm felt all too good, calming his raging mind. He could muster up excuses later, but for now he took it for what it was: an odd mixture of adoration and friendship.

Jackson could only hope that the preparations for their dispatch at the end of the month would provide enough of a distraction for him.

\--------------------------------------------

As it so happened, Jackson was very busy after that night. He had meetings with generals and tacticians, the in-palace blacksmith, tailors, and the king. He spent most of his free time re-accustoming himself to the heavy weight of battle armor, should things go awry. He practiced with his rapier, as opposed to the classic Haruz longsword. The rapier was a weapon with much more finess. It resembled the sabres he used in fencing, a very princely sport as his parents would say. It was only because Mark played as well, however when Haruz boys grew into young men they switched to longswords. Jackson had loved the rapier much more. It was Ettoren only by nobel blood. The thin sword took much skill to use in defense or attack on much larger swords. The thing metal was likely to break beneath a broad sword and could hardly slice through metal armor. Yet, that was the trick. The rapier was a poking instrument. It had a high strategic advantage when mastered. The thin blade was light weight, allowing for fast strikes. The tip was thin enough to slip through chinks in armor, sans needing to slice through but rather slide beneath and take advantage of the smallest fallacies. He proved this often in the training fields with zealous, young Haruz military men. That being said, Jackson should not have been surprised when word spread throughout the castle. Not that he was conceited, but he believed in his swordsmanship. Rumors of his skill were bound to spread. He just didn’t think they would reach Mark.

Jackson had just finished a rather entertaining duel with another Haruz swordsman. Jackson had yet to break a sweat despite the many rounds, but his opponent differed. The poor man leaned on his wooden practice sword, huffing as he laughed along with the other men watching.

“I must say, Lord Jackson, you make a formidable foe!” The man huffed as he stood, sticking his hand out towards Jackson, “Truce?”

“Truce my friend,” Jackson laughed along, firmly shaking his hand. He pat the man on the back as he left back to the crowd. Jackson smiled invitingly, eyes searching the crowd for his next opponent, “Who comes next then?” He asked the crowd as he waved his own wooden sword. Jackson spun around, wooden sword pointing towards the crowd. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

“I will challenge you.”

The crowd parted and revealed the Crown Prince Mark, smirking, “What say you?”

Jackson copied the Crown Prince’s expression, “I accept, your majesty.”

Jackson raised his sword in a mock threatening gesture as Mark entered the circle, hand resting on the hilt of his sword at his hip.

“Oh no, Jackson. I prefer the real thing,” Mark drawled, drawing his sword and letting the sun glint off the clean metal surface, “Someone fetch him a blade.”

A man quickly stepped up to Mark and bowed before him, extending a broadsword within its scabbard above his bowed head. Mark took one look at the sword and frowned, shaking his head.

“No, that will not do. My friend here is at his best with a rapier,” Mark informed.

It surprised Jackson that the other had remembered his choice of weapon. He felt touched that Mark would only accept the best, or at least his best, for Jackson. The thought had Jackson smiling and he did not try to hide it. The same man came back with a rapier this time. Jackson could tell by the elegant silhouette and elaborate handle. Mark took the sword by the handle and unsheathed it. He stepped forwards and extended the hilt to Jackson. Jackson smirked as he made sure that his hand covered Mark’s as he took the sword from the elder, winking as the blade was passed between them. Mark simply rolled his eyes at Jackson’s teasing and raised his own blade. Jackson took a moment to feel for the rapier. It was a lighter weight than his own, most likely to the cheaper metal used. He gently ran a finger down the edge of the blade, finding it blunt.

“It seems like this sword is unfit for our battle,” Jackson joked as he tested the flexibility of the blade, “How am I supposed to win if I cannot draw blood?”

“We are even then,” Mark stated, raising his hand to run along both edges of his broad sword, “Shall we begin?”

“Gladly,” Jackson answered with a grin before his body stance suddenly changed and he lunged for Mark, sword pointed at his chest.

Mark’s eyes widened as he barely brought his own sword up to block Jackson’s advance.

“Always loved the element of surprise,” Mark commented as he shifted into his own stance.

The men around them hooted and hollered, excitement for the duel unfolding before them. Mark and Jackson paid them no mind, both classically trained in swordsmanship and able to drown out the noise in favor of focusing on the enemy before them. The two princes orbited around the open space cautiously. Then suddenly, the two lunged forwards. Their swords met in the middle with a loud clang. The two pushed off each other before leaping to the middle again. This time, Mark pushed forward with greater strength. The thicker blade of the Crown Prince’s broadsword bent back Jackson’s blade. Jackson did not let it get to him. Instead, he steeled his eyes and quickly spun to the side, dislodging his rapier. With quick movement, Jackson followed his momentum and swung low at the back of Mark’s knee. The blonde prince, however, was quick enough to drop his sword low and paray the attack. Though, the shift in form created an opening in Mark’s chest. Mark noticed and quickly corrected himself by jumping backwards as Jackson’s rapier jabbed near his chest. 

“Too slow my friend,” Jackson taunted, eyes trained on Mark's form.

The blonde prince smiled wryly and chuckled as he shifted the weight of his sword in his palm, “Still cocky, my friend.”

Mark then lunged forwards, sword crossed over his body. Jackson quickly raised his sword in time to block, however the strength of Mark’s blow caused the blade to curve dangerously. Jackson hurriedly tilted his wrist towards himself, causing Mark's blade to slip to the stronger base of the rapier. However, the force of Mark’s attack had him stumbling. Unable to regain his footing, Jackson tumbled into the crowd. The Haruz soldiers hooted teasingly as they caught Jackson and pushed him back into the circle with shouts of encouragement and discouragement. 

“ I would worry about myself if I were you,” Mark teased as he stepped back to give Jackson space to collect himself. 

“Alright,” Jackson grumbled, “I was planning on giving you face in front of your men, but now I have decided to show no mercy.”

Jackson lowered his body in a defensive stance. He tucked his rapier into his left side, right arm crossed over his chest. Jackson’s eyes glared at Mark through the pieces of hair that had slipped through his ponytail. It was an intimidating image, he would like to think. Mark raised an eyebrow before shifting into his own stance. He held his broadsword in front of his body, bladed edge pointed at Jackson and in turn, himself. It was an offensive position, yet a simple tilt of Mark’s wrist would bear the flat side of the blade to block any blows. Neither man moved this time, simply waiting for one another to make the first move. Jackson shifted his feet slightly in the sand and suddenly Mark was lunging, sword high in the air. Jackson quickly dodged the downward strike, however he was not expecting Mark to shift the movement sideways, a difficult technique to master. Jackson raised his rapier in time to block the sword centimeters from his face. However the force of MArk’s swing was strong enough the crack the poor rapier Jackson was given. Jackson barely ducked out of the way before the blade of his rapier was broken off, Mark's sword nearly colliding with his head. Jackson swerved to regain his momentum but was stopped by Mark suddenly grabbing his ponytail. Mark pulled Jackson up, causing the Ettoren prince to collide with Mark’s chest. 

Mark's breathing was heavy as the two froze in the embrace. Jackson could feel the edge of Mark’s sword digging into the base of his neck, but for some reason his body chose to focus on the feeling of Mark's hot breath fanning over his face. Both of them were sweaty from the fight. Jackson watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Mark’s temple, where pieces of his hair plastered themselves again his forehead, and just past his full lips. Jackson swallowed and tried to step away but Mark held onto him tightly. 

“You lose,” Mark huffed, voice deep and gravely from exhaustion.

Jackson would have shuddered had he not known something Mark did not.

“I would not be so sure,” Jackson replied, voice just as used if not more.

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Jackson chuckled darkly. Jackson eyes wandered down Mark's heaving chest and to his abdomen, where he had the broken edge of his rapier pressing into the fabric of Mark's vest. Mark's eyes followed Jackson's. He quickly looked back up to Jackson's smirking face and sighed, dropping his sword and stepping away.

“ I did not even see you move,” Mark conceded, “It is a tie then.”

Jackson huffed out laughter as he leaned forward and grabbed Mark's free hand, shaking it firmly as the men around them cheered enthusiastically. Mark smiled tiredly at Jackson and wrapped his arm around the Ettoren’s shoulders. He handed his sword to a random soldier and Jackson did the same with his.

“Alright, back to work all of you!”Mark shouted as he leaned on Jackson, “We only have a week left and you all must be in your best shape!”

Jackson snorted and squeezed his arm around Mark’s waist. He felt Mark's back muscles tense slightly before easing up. Before he could sk if Mark waas okay, the Haruz prince has already begun to guide them bac towards the castle. Once they were in the more secluded area, Mark addressed Jackson.

“We have some things to discuss, however, I refuse to speak about them until you have bathed.” Mark wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Jackson gave the blonde a sly smile before responding, “You do not smell any more pleasant than I, your gracefulness.”

“Oh how rude, my Lord.” Mark rolled his eyes.

“Lord! How can you demote me so? In Ettore I am a Prince! And you call me rude,” Jackson gasped playfully, detaching himself from Mark to place a scandalized hand over his heart.

“Dramatic as ever,” Mark laughed genuinely before pulling Jackson back underneath his arm.  
Jackson allowed Mark to pull him through the castle. They didn't speak any more, but Jackson wished someone would. It would distract him from the warmth spreading through his body at the slightest pressure of Mark's hand on his arm, the smallest brush of Mark's elbow around his neck, especially the feeling of having Mark wrapped inside his arm and body tucked close into his own. The feeling was sending all sorts of signals to his heart; the feeling so unexplainable that Jackson had trouble even translating them to Ettoren. Though, it would seem that the universe was looking after him, for Mark soon let go of Jackson. It tok Jackson a moment to realize the reason for Mark’s separation. They had reached Jackson’s chambers in the guest wing of the castle. Jackson reached for the door but stopped himself. He turned to Mark but was unsure of what he wanted to say.

Mark met his gaze, his warm brown eyes searching Jackson’s. Mark tugged his lower lip into his mouth and Jackson was completely sure that the elder had no idea that simple movement did to his heart. Mark released his lip and cleared his throat quickly. His eyes shifted to the floor before looking back up to Jackson.

“Would you like to meet in my study or the greenhouse?” Mark asked softly.

Jackson did not need to think for even a moment.

“The greenhouse, always the greenhouse.”

It always would be. Because Mark loved the greenhouse, and Jackson loved Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter...reading it again after a few years makes me think its a bit repetitive but hey, I think Jackson made his point....

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah...I may also have two other stories planned for JJP and yugbam… so if this one gets any attention then I may finish those too
> 
> …I suddenly regret making the Ettoren language in bold


End file.
